Stories of the Onior
by Idojgrrl
Summary: A story of one family in Azeroth. Not a rich family, not a famous family, but a family dedicated to honor and each other. At least for now.  Please enjoy, and I do appreciate constructive suggestions and any opinions that might help make this better!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note:

At the request of my friends who read this before my posting, here is a short preface so the family names and relationships are less of a puzzle. The story is set before Silvermoon leaves the Alliance, but I was not concerned about specifics, I just enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think would improve it, including a title. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Bachanan (bak HAN an): Father of the the family, head of the Onior household. Not "House" in the noble sense, this is just a family.

Salina (sa LEE na): Mother of the family

Dahanan (da HAN an): eldest son

Justyn (JUS tin): second son

Tyrin (TEE rin): third son

Kalyn (KAY lin): fourth son

Cai (KI): youngest son

Caoimhe (KEE va): only daughter, youngest child

Chapter 1: Dahanan's Challenge

The house was in an uproar. Not an unpleasant one, but it practically vibrated with energy. Salina calmly navigated the running children, the loud laughter of young soldiers, the constant back and forth of the squire and the stomping of her husband. She set a plate of roast and bread in front if her eldest son who sat at the table, the only one in the house not moving, and lay a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, starting an apology. Salina held up her hand and smiled.

"Trust me," she smiled, "you will want to eat now, there will not be time later."

"Mother," Dahanan started, fully feeling in control of his own experience, "there will be food after the ceremony."

"Trust me, Dahanan," she pat him gently before she walked away, "you will not get much opportunity to eat otherwise."

"Yes, Dahanan," his brother Justyn added, mimicking their mother's tone, "eat now, the Order won't feed you past induction."

"Oh yes, Dahanan," piped the other from the opposite side of the table, "Paladin's don't need food, didn't they tell you?"

"Tyrin, let your brother be," Bachanan's voice boomed through the kitchen before he entered.

Tyrin sat back down in mock indignation, "Justyn started it."

As the elder Onior entered the kitchen, his eldest don stood. Bachanan smiled, a good natured grin.

"That is not necessary, son," he said. "at least not at home." Then he added, "at least not yet."

Dahanan took a moment to register that his Father was teasing him and he sat slowly before Justyn and Tyrin erupted into howls of laughter at their brother's expense. Hearing the commotion, and determined not to miss anything, the two youngest ran into the room. Cai slammed into the table next to Dahanan and Caoihme threw her tiny frame across his lap in a frantic leap to beat Cai in their race.

"See here," their father boomed above the noise, and all quieted to hushed giggles and muffled laughs. "Where is Kalyn?"

"Setting out Daan's trousers, I'd imagine," Justyn said sarcastically as he lifted his sister upside down from Dahanan's lap and deposited her right side up on the bench next to him.

Bachanan frowned. "Kalyn is doing his duty as a squire," he said, very serious, "as did you, and you will show him due respect."

Tyrin laughed out loud. "No one showed us any respect!" but his father's glare told him that the jest was done and Tyrin immediately filled his mouth with bread so as to avoid inserting his foot.

Salina brought two heaping plates of seared fish to the table, followed by Kalyn with a bowl of fruit. Justyn and Tyrin sat rod strait and nodded stiffly to him as he set the bowl down, their chins held ridiculously high in the air and their lower lips pressed into frowns.

"Ahem," Bachanan made a quiet correction as Kalyn took a seat next to Dahanan and Selina sat down with a sigh opposite her husband. With his family thus assembled, Bachanan sat at the head of the table.

A brief blessing was said over the meal before food began vanishing into young mouths. Bachanan smiled at his wife across the table, only the two of them taking any time with the meal.

"Are you nervous?" Justyn asked his brother, all jest gone, replaced by earnest curiosity.

Dahanan smiled, but did not look up from the bread he was buttering for Caoimhe.

"Your brother is well prepared," Bachanan said, obvious pride in his voice. "and this is mostly a formality. This is the recognition of years of training, not the start of it."

The two elder boys nodded, only a few years into their formal training themselves, they remembered how grueling were the physical trials to pass from squire to initiate in the order. Bachanan looked to Kalyn, who had been quieter than usual all the previous evening and had shown no signs of improvement before breakfast.

"And Kalyn will soon follow," he said enthusiastically.

"And me!" Cai said, echoing his father's tone.

"And me!" yelled Caoimhe through the buttered bread.

"And you!" Bachanan laughed. "are you intending to squire for Kalyn?" he grinned at his youngest, still a child.

Caoimhe shook her head "no", "I will squire for Cai."

Cai nodded and smiled, "She's been carrying my sword."

Bachanan raised an eyebrow, amused. He looked at his older sons, "Really? And where did young Cai come by a sword?"

The older brothers exchanged glances. Salina looked at all of them as if she was completely washing her hands of the lot.

"We borrowed Daan's old one," Caoimhe said cheerfully.

Dahanan looked up from his plate, suddenly aware that he had no idea his younger siblings had access to his practice weapons. "How did you get that?" he asked.

"Kalyn," she said. All eyes turned to the squire.

Kalyn, who was barely an adolescent, turned a dark shade of red and, taking a tact from his older brother, shoved a piece of fruit in his mouth to ensure he would have at least a moment before having to explain himself.

Bachanan frowned at his son's obvious stall and turned instead to his two youngest. "So Kalyn gave you a sword?" he asked.

Sensing some sort of threat to the group's solidarity, both Caiomhe and Cai looked to Kalyn for guidance, but his eyes were glued to his plate in hopes that if he didn't look up, he might disappear.  
The would-be knight and squire hedged.

"Well," Cai reasoned, "I couldn't be a proper paladin without a sword."

A smile spread across Bachanan's stern features. he picked up his fork and began to eat. Kalyn raised his eyes to see if it was safe.

"Remember, Cai," Bachanan said, looking not at his youngest son, but at his older ones, "It takes more than a sword."

Breakfast passed with a slightly more somber mood than it had started, but everyone was still quite positive as the family dispersed to clear the table and prepare for the events of the day. Dahanan and Kalyn left immediately, excused for less domestic matters. Salina straiten her son's tunics and stepped back, pride evident in her gaze. Bachanan extended his hand and Dahanan grasped his father's forearm with both hands. They exchanged no words, but none were needed.

Bachanan looked at Kalyn, "Your brother is counting on you." was all he said. And with that, potential knight and squire headed off toward the proving grounds on foot in the breaking light of dawn.

Salina stepped up and took her husbands arm, watching the two walk off. Danahan had put his arm over his younger brother's shoulders and was leaning his head in to impart some, likely, words of encouragement.

"That was most diplomatic of you," she said to Bachanan as she watched her sons walk away.

Bachanan put his hand over hers. "Today is Dahanan's day," he said, also watching the pair disappear over the hill. "Reprimanding Kalyn would add nothing to it." He frowned slightly. "Although I will have to have a word with him about taking his duties more seriously."

Salina kissed his arm before pulling away toward the house. "He is very young to be a squire," she said, omitting the 'I told you so'.

Bachanan's frown deepened slightly. "We don't have the luxuries of time we used to," he said, still staring over the hill. "They will have to learn fast."

The morning was spent in preparation for the induction. they would all go to watch Dahanan in his final trials, and only Bachanan, as a paladin himself would be present for the actual moment when his son was sworn to the service of the Light, but then the young knights would be presented to the appreciative populous at large and there would be picnics all around, speeches made by officers in the tent where the new knights would congregate and a general celebration. They needed celebration. The location of the proving grounds had been moved, almost every year since the central cities of Quel' thalas had been destroyed by war. While the High elves themselves had withdrawn somewhat, the Paladins had continued to support Alliances efforts and fewer and fewer of them returned.

Salina corralled her two youngest children into appropriate clothing, prepared the picnic and closed up their small home. Justyn and Tyrin saddled three hawk striders and their father's charger and had them ready for the ride. The young initiates wore their finery, white livery, but without the emblems of the Paladins. They stood sharply at attention while their father mounted, assisted their mother, though she didn't need it, onto her fine hawk strider and hefted their siblings up in front of their own saddles. As a family, they rode to the proving grounds.

The gathering was smaller than in years past, the gathering seemed to get smaller every year, but the enthusiasm was still high. In a field below Windrunner Village, massive elaborate tents had been erected. Cai and Caoimhe clapped and yelled when they caught sigh of the banners blowing impossibly high over the trees. Cai tried kicking his brother's mount to go even faster.

"See here!" Tyrin said, in spite of himself, sounding very much like their father for a moment, which made Salina laugh and turn in her saddle. Realizing this made Tyrin blush suddenly and deciding he couldn't be that stuffy this early in life, handed his little brother the inside of the reins and spurred his mount forward. The hawk strider leaped with surprise and then sprinted forward, Cai whooping with delight as they took off. Not to be outdone, Justyn wrapped one arm around Caoimhe and leaned forward.

"Hold on tight, Caoi," he warned and started to sprint after them. .

Salina watched them gallop off and winced slightly. "I wish they would be more careful," she said.

Bachanan waved off her concern. "Nonsense," he said, "they are experienced riders, Cai and Caoimhe could not be in better hands."

The two striders were soon lost to view, but the peels of laughter rung back toward their parents. "They will mess their clothes," Salina finally said defensively. Bachanan smiled but did not argue. The pair rode on at a slower pace, enjoying the momentary quiet.

The noise of the crowd reached them well before they came into the clearing. Music was playing and many if the younger initiates were engaging in side contests before the main exhibitions began. Justyn and Tyrin had pulled up their mounts and were waiting to enter the main grounds. All of them had terribly mussed hair, and their faces were flush, but they waited with quiet dignity to enter the grounds as a family. Their parents led them through.

Bachanan and his wife were greeted with much congratulations on their son's behalf. Well wishers from their own community, friends who had known the family for ages, veterans who had served with Bachanan's father, all stopped them to bow or shake hands, expressing how wonderful it was to have their eldest join the ranks. They reached the point at which Bachanan had to leave to take his place among the Paladins, and he bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I will see you after," he said.

"Do not judge them too harshly," she said. He winked at her and faced his sons with a grim countenance.

"I expect exemplary behavior," he said to the two eldest. "See to your mother's comfort."

They nodded and saluted, heeling their mounts behind their mother's.

"And you two," he said to the youngest, sharply. They stopped squirming and sat up strait in their places in the saddles. "I expect only the most enthusiastic cheering for your brother. Let them know the Onior have lungs as well as swords."

Given such permission, the two didn't wait and let out such a loud affirmation that it actually startled the striders. "And mind your mother!" Bachanan yelled over them, then turned his mount and headed to the largest tent at the top of the far rise.

The tent was filling with holly warriors of the Light, mostly from the area, although a few had traveled from some distance to show their support. Most were High Borne, but not all, a few Night Elves and fewer still humans mingled in the tent. He saw no dwarves, but then, one usually heard them before one saw them. Bachanan stood looking over the room.

"Your son looks good in gold," he heard. He turned to the voice, a small smile on his face. "Looking good has little to do with anything," Bachanan said quietly as he shook his commander's hand.

"Indeed," the other affirmed. "I am sure he will do you proud today."

"He has only to do himself proud," Bachanan returned, not entirely honestly, but he would be forgiven fatherly pride today.

"Allow me to introduce you to our guests," the commander said, steering him toward a group of men standing a bit apart. The human paladins, there were two of them, turned as he approached, smiled politely and extended their hands.

The commander made introductions, first in Common, then in Thalassian. Bachanan nodded and made pleasantries, his common had never been terribly solid.

"Onior," the most senior human was saying, or attempting to. Apparently his Thalassian was not any better than Bachanan's common. "Not an elf name?" He looked to the commander for some assistance with the translation.

"He remarks that he your name is not particularly elvish," the commander explained. "He is wondering if there are humans in your family tree."

Bachanan knew it was not intended to be an insult, but he often found that, much like his youngest children, humans often spoke before they thought.

"Kindly explain that our family adopted the name many many generations ago. There was some great friendship between an ancestor of mine and," he smiled, "perhaps an ancestor of his, on the battlefield in the first war. They took the name together to cement their brotherhood in arms. It means 'of Honor'. At least, that is how the story has come down to me." There was actually a great deal more to it than that, but he didn't feel the need to share it. The others nodded, duely impressed and the somewhat broken but friendly conversation continued until trumpeters announced that the trials would soon begin. Bachanan took a deep breath.

"He'll do fine," the commander clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. And they all moved to take seats of honor in the stands above the temporary ring.

The pageantry was fantastic. The eight candidates walked in, with their squires and with banners flying. Bachanan searched the lower stands for Salina. She watched her son enter with her hands clasped to her chest. Cai and Caoimhe jumped and hollered at her hip, but Justyn and Tyrin had unfurled house banners on long poles that they pounded repeatedly onto the bleacher, but otherwise held their voices. Bachanan watched them for a moment, wondering where they had managed to conceal them. The trumpets blared, a call to compete was made and the prospective knights bowed to the main stands and the dispersed to their chosen areas to prepare. Bachanan was right, the competition was mostly ceremonial. A prospective knight would truly have to put forth a miserable showing to be declined. Even so, he could not help but furrow his brow as he watched his son prepare and compete in the numerous trials. The knights fought each other, then groups of younger initiates. There was armed combat and mounted combat and for those who were inclined, archery contests. Dahanan had declined the later, which Bachanan applauded. He was a fair archer, but not more than a sport archer and he elected to save his strength for a challenge he was better suited to. Through the day, Kalyn served him well. He chose the weapons, he represented his knight in the circle, he fetched food and water and seemed to do so quickly and without fatigue. Bachanan wad most impressed.

Through the day, the crowd ebbed and flowed. Justyn and Tyrin became predictably less reserved and gave over to just as much yelling and cheering as their younger siblings and finally, as the end of the competition approached and it seemed all of the candidates would indeed be inducted, the Onoir children made their pride and presence known and fully took over a corner of the grounds for their celebration, panting the flags and fetching blankets and cushions from an undisclosed hiding spot.

The family feasting started well before the newly minted knights emerged from the main tent. Bachanan and his son had no trouble finding the rest of his clan, what with the banners erected and the well wishers pointing the way.

Salina met her champions coming up to their gathering. She hugged her son and wrapped her arms into her husband's.

"And so?" she asked.

Bachanan clapped his eldest squarely on the back, a little more than he was prepared for, given the rigors of the day.

"He is a knight!" he announced proudly, and a cheer erupted from the family. Salina threw her arms around Dahanan's neck in a show of unbridled joy.

Dahanan could only nod and smile. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was until that moment. He squeezed Salina tightly and managed, "thank you for insisting I eat."

Salina laughed through her joyful tears. "Well," she said, "you can eat now." She turned to Bachanan, "will they be presented?"

He nodded, "in a few hours. Give them time to eat and clean up."

Salina looked around, "and Kalyn?"

"The squires are tending to the rings. Don't worry," he said when she frowned, "they will be well fed too."

And so the celebrations began, and Dahanan repeated each trial in narrative over and over to countless cousins and friends. It wasn't too long, however, before he noticed there was something missing. He looked at Justyn.

"Where is Cai?" he asked.

Justyn looked up from the haunch of roast he was about to tear into. He looked first immediately behind Dahanan. "I don't know," he said, genuinely surprised, "usually he's right there." He laughed and continued his meal.

Dahanan looked around the gathering of family and friends, through the running children from several families. He did not see Cai. He did not see Caoimhe for that matter, either. He sighed, took a huge piece of Justyn's roast as he stood, and started to circle the picnic to look for them.

"Hey!" Justyn protested.

"Come on," his brother insisted. Soon the two of them had made a large loop, casually at first, then with greater concern. They enlisted Tyrin. After the three of them circling the grounds twice, they came to the unpleasant conclusion that the children were missing. Dahanan sighed, "I will go tell Father."

Bachanan excused himself from the group he was with as soon as he saw his son's face. He kept his own demeanor calm as he approached him and steered away from the others.

"Not the relieved face I would have expected," he said.

Dahanan looked at his father and said in a low voice, "We cannot find Cai or Caoimhe. We've been all over the grounds."

"We?"

"Tyrin, Justyn and myself," he said. "I haven't said anything to Mother."

Bachanan nodded. "Likely they are off playing in the woods." He looked up at the darkening sky. "Still, we should find them, and shortly. You're mother would never forgive me if they missed your introduction." He pat his son on the back and started them back toward the gathering. "Get your brothers, I'll talk to your mother, meet me at the main tent." He smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, they can't be far."

A few minutes after, the brothers, Bachanan, Salina and several other adults were gathered in the growing dusk. Salina rubbed her arms against the slight chill and frowned.

"Each a direction," Bachanan said, "We will find them in short order and be back in time for the continued celebrations." They all looked to Dahanan, who had insisted he would miss the introduction if necessary to find his siblings.

"Lets go then," he said, kissed his mother on the cheek and they all started walking.

The woods were not dense, fortunately, but they were dark and finding any trail was almost impossible in the dim light. Fireflies flickered throughout the brush and fluttered in the treetops. Had his task not been so urgent, Dahanan would have stopped to enjoy them. He watched a few fly by, followed by a trio of dragon flies.  
He stopped walking and watched them. They flitted above the stream and away...west. Dahanan took off at a run, following the stream and calling to Cai. Caoimhe loved dragon flies. She and Cai would spend whole afternoons trying to get them to alight on reeds and cat tails. There were so many more here near the coast than at the stream near their home. It would be just like the two of them to follow a swarm of insects down the stream. Dahanan picked up his pace, the stream led to the marsh and then to the sea. And closer to the sea were...

He heard them before he saw them. They were loud and slow on land, and barely more aware than animals, but they were vicious pack hunters and lightning fast in the water. He crouched in the reeds by the water's edge and drew the only weapon he had, a short sword. He could see the tops of their scaly heads, and the spikes that protruded from them. One was carrying a torch that glinted eerily off their milky eyes. They all carried spears, and he knew they were not particular about their food. He started moving further down stream, following, hiding in the grasses, his heart in his throat. He hadn't gotten too far when he heard two things, the first gave him a flood of relief, the second a rush of anger and fear. Clearly, he heard Cai yelling, and clearly he was yelling, "Get away!". Then he heard Caoimhe scream.

The murlocs ran. He broke into a run, still keeping his head low and staying as much on the dry land as possible. He could see, against the silhouette of the torch light from the other side of a tree, a murloc thrusting a spear up into the branches. the three he had followed ran past the tree and toward the open sandbar beyond. The one at the tree fumbled with some lower branches, gurgling in whatever language they used. From the branches came a steady stream of sticks and leaves and nuts. Cai and Caoimhe had climbed as high as the branches would allow and were showering their assailant with anything they could to keep it at bay. Dahanan slowed and circled until he was behind the creature. He did one cursory check to make certain there were no others and, leading with his shoulder, he rushed the murloc. The murloc didn't notice, or at least didn't react, except for the wet grunt that it let out as its body crumpled into the trunk of the tree with Dahanan's full weight behind it. The tree shook, and the children were stunned into silence for a moment before they realized who their rescuer was. Suddenly, they both started talking at once.

"There are dozens of them!"

"They chased us up the tree!"

"They were going to eat us! Where they going to eat us?"

"I lost my shoes!"

"What about the trolls?"

"What about the what?" Dahanan stopped.

"The trolls," Cai said.

"We saw them from the tree," Caoimhe rushed, "they were fighting with the murlocs!"

"They have a boat."

"Shhhh sh sh," he said, listening. He heard clashes from the sand bar and he pushed Cai back up the tree. "Stay here," he said. he passed his short sword to Cai. He looked at the boy. "Protect each other," he said. "What ever it takes." The children nodded gravely and with eerie silence climbed back up into the tree top. Dahanan picked up the spear the dead murloc had dropped, and headed toward the melee.

They had been right, there were trolls. he could see them in the torch light. Huge compared to the murlocs. Two were fighting off at least four of the murlocs, near their boat. He wasn't certain why they didn't simply push off, or make a run for it. Surely they could outrun the creatures on land, as long as their legs are. Then he saw what was keeping them in their position. A third troll lay, he presumed dead, at least a boat length or two, it was hard to tell in the dim light, away from the others. The murlocs were paying it no mind. The murlocs were paying him no mind. there was nothing keeping him from going back to the tree, secreting the children down, and taking them safely home. He could warn the others about the murlocs and the trolls and they could all go home. But that didn't sit right in the back of his head. he glanced back at the tree. they were safe at the moment. He looked at the trolls. The murlocs fought with spears, the trolls with...fishing rods? He blinked. yes, they swung fishing rods. these weren't marauders, these were fishers. What they were doing on this part of the coast he wasn't sure, but Dahanan was certain they were in much the same situation he was. He hefted the spear in his hand, getting a feel for it. He took a deep breath.

Dahanan had prayed before. He had used a battle cry to startle his enemies in hand to hand combat before. He had been in minor defensive skirmishes as a younger man. He had never done all three at once, or more earnestly. Dahanan opened his lips and from his chest emanated a sound that the children would later describe as holy terror. It was deep and harmonic and resounding and it bounced off the trees and the water and the little fishing boat. It was holly prayer and fierce battle cry and angry brother all rolled into one word. And it fell on the murlocs with all the vengeance of the three. A streak of light accompanied the spear as he threw it at the largest murloc. It lit the beach for a brief second.

The trolls saw, on the dune across from them, a figure with a lighting bolt in his hand. He cried out, a terrible, but somehow reassuring word that let hope glimmer for a moment in their terrified hearts. Then, it released the bolt of lighting and it streaked, with sure accuracy, into the back of the relentlessly hungry beast that attacked them. They took it as a sign and lent their voices in a redoubled defencive effort.

The murlocs saw their chieftain struck down by the hand of an avenging god. Their own spear had felled him and it had come from the sky on the cry of an angry wind and a streak of fire. And then they saw the side of oars, creates, fishing knives, anything and everything the trolls had in the boat to attack with. Dahanan, after hurling the spear had run down the dune, grabbed a piece of flotsam and swung it with all his strength into the head of the first murloc he came across. He grabbed a torch from the ground, dropped by one of the fallen and as quickly it had started, it was over.

Dahanan stood on the beach, with a torch. The trolls hunched by their boat. the murloc bodies separated them. Dahanan suddenly realized the body of their comrade was behind him. Slowly, he moved away. The trolls watched him, carefully. One muttered to the other, who nodded.

"Daan?" he heard Caomhe call out to him.

The trolls tensed, Dahanan put up his hands and continued to back up toward the tree. "It's ok, Caoi," he said. "Just stay there."

Dahanan didn't know much troll. he knew "Stop" and "Stay back", but he didn't know "children" or "we're going to go home and leave you to go home too".

Then the troll did a surprising thing. he held out one hand to about the height of Cai and the other to about the height of Caoimhe, and in very poor Thalassian, he said "babies".

"Yes," Dahanan said, relieved, "Yes, babies." He was close enough to the body to see that the troll was still breathing, and in his best horrible troll he said, "Not dead." The trolls, their turn to be relieved, relaxed and started to lumber forward. Dahanan continued back to the tree, amazed at how large trolls really where in person.

They all watched each other, their mutual truce as much about curiosity as need. The children looked as the trolls as only children can, with no fear and total awe. The trolls were wary and exhausted, but carefully and gently lifted their friend into the boat, their language much more melodic than Dahanan would have expected. Dahanan and the troll looked at each other briefly just before they shoved off. Caoimhe waved. The troll drew himself to its full height, easily three or four heads taller than Dahanan, thumped his fist on his chest and raised his arm in what Dahanan assumed was a salute. Daan straitened and raised his hand across his chest. And then he turned the children back into the woods and started the walk home.

There was no mention of trolls when they got back. Dahanan had convinced the two that it should be their secret, that Mother would be so worried she'd likely never let them out of the house again. the ceremony should have been over by the time they got back, but the other Paladins had insisted they would share the honor or none of them receive it, and there was a full rush of hands to receive them when the friends watching the road trumpeted back. No one who went out searching had returned before them, but the trumpets soon had everyone back, tired, relieved and rejoicing. Salina had run half a league to meet them when she heard the trumpets and Bachanan brought two chargers for them to ride back on. A bonfire was lit and wine was passed and Dahanan and his fellow Paladins were announced to their families and friends. Dirty, scratched, tired, and having doubly earned their honors.

After the fervor had died down Dahanan sat by the fire, a mug of wine in his hand. They had decided to stay, electing to rest after all the excitement. Bachanan sat down next to him.

"We'll send a patrol to make sure the murlocs are gone," he said.

Dahanan nodded.

"The children are asleep," he added.

Again, Dahanan nodded.

"What's troubling you?"

Dahanan looked up, surprised. He sighed and took a longer draw on the mug.

"There were more than murlocs," he finally said. Bachanan looked at him, waiting for the explanation. "They didn't seem to pose any threat to the children."

Bachanan frowned, "What didn't?"

Dahanan looked around and then lowered his voice, "Trolls."

His father stiffened. "No," he shook his head, anticipating his father's reaction, "they were fisher folk, didn't even have weapons," Dahanan explained. "It looked as if they had been ambushed by the murlocs."

Bachanan leaned back and stared at the fire. "Why didn't you mention this immediately?" he asked.

"I didn't want Mother any more upset than she was," he explained, "and they left as soon as the murlocs were dispatched." He sipped the wine. "I believe had I not intervened, they would have been overcome."

Bachanan picked up the wineskin and poured himself a mug.

"May I ask why you did," he finally asked.

Dahanan stared into the fire. He did not answer right away.

"I didn't feel I could, in good conscience," he said carefully, "not."

Bachanan nodded. They sat together for a while in silence. . "I will go with the patrol tomorrow," Bachanan finally said, "just to be sure."

Dahanan nodded.

"Will you do me the courtesy of escorting your mother home?"

Dahanan nodded.

Bachanan stood, his son rose out of respect. . "You are a fine paladin, Daan," he said. "I have many reasons to be proud today."

He nodded to his son, who saluted in return, and then retired to the tent where the family slept.

Dahanan sat back down, alone with his thoughts, and poured another mug of wine.


	2. Chapter 2

The spire rose above the cliffs that lined the shore like a widow watching the sea. Abandoned but whole, it stood a lonely testament to a past era. Whether out of superstition or respect, it was left untouched. Mostly.

"Do you think there are ghosts?" Caoimhe asked her brother, distracted from her task of collecting firewood by the silhouette of the tower.

Cai stopped chasing the crab he had cornered and looked up. He contemplated the question very seriously, considering the structure before confirming her suspicions. "Absolutely," he nodded. "Why else would everyone stay away?" He turned back to the sand, irritated that the crab had skittered away.

Caoimhe nodded her agreement. Still, it was beautiful. Curved and quiet. "I bet the view is amazing from up there," she said.

"Mm hmm," Cai agreed, scanning the sand for his crab.

"Kay," Caoimhe called as her older brother appeared over the dune, "will you go to the spire with me?"

"What?" Kalyn shook his head, confused. He followed her finger to the top of Windrunner Spire. His eyebrows rose, "Oh, no, I don't think so."

Cai was suddenly intrigued. "Why not?" he asked, then added in a very little brother way, "You're not scared are you?"

Kay stiffened and straitened his shoulders. "No," he said defensively. "It's just...you can't go there," he said, "It would be trespassing."

"But its empty," Caoimhe reasoned. "No one lives there." She continued to stare dreamily at the spire, imagining the family inside and full of life. Kalyn was shaking his head.

"No," he said, mostly to himself. "No, I don't think so."

Cai had wandered up behind his brother, the crab forgotten, the stick dragging a trail in the sand behind him. "I'll go with you, Caoi," he said.

Kalyn wheeled around. "Oh no you won't," he said.

Cai shrugged, "I'm not scared."

Kay's face started to turn red. "I'm not scared!" he insisted, he looked at his two younger siblings and then up at the spire. "Fine," he finally gave in, "we'll all go."

Cai smiled at Caoimhe, having won the small victory for her. She clapped her hands, dropped the small bundle of firewood, and started at a run toward the base of the tower, Cai close behind. Kalyn jogged after them, a little maudlin that he had been ignored but secretly curious as to what they might find. The closer he got to the tower, the more his imagination was flooded with possibilities.

Caoimhe and Cai stood at the rocky outcrop that made up the base of the tower, it looked immense from the bottom, they craned their necks to try and see the top from where they were.

"Can we get in from here?" Cai asked.

"I don't know," Caoimhe admitted, looking in either direction around the tower for a door or a window.

"It wouldn't be very defensible if it had a door at the bottom," Kalyn sniffed as he approached.

"That makes sense, I guess," Cai said, his eyes wandering to the nearest balcony ledge. "What about there?" he pointed to the row of windows under the balcony. The three stood, staring up, considering their options.

"Too bad we don't have a rope," Kalyn grumbled.

"We have sticks," Caoimhe offered.

"I don't think that will get us there," Cai shook his head.

Caoimhe started wandering down the rock beach. Kalyn frowned at her. "The rocks are slippery, Caoi, be careful," he watched back and forth between Caoimhe, who was wandering onto the rocks paying absolutely no attention to where she was going, her eyes glued to the tower, and Cai, who had started looking for roots to turn into rope. He saw a likely possibility and began to tug.

Kalyn rolled his eyes, "That isn't going to work."

"Come help me," Cai insisted, tugging without effect.

"That isn't going to work," he said, "it's too deep into the ground." He gauged the distance to the ledge, "besides, do you know how much you would need? and how strong is that anyway? you have no way of knowing."

Cai straitened from his efforts and smiled at his brother. "It's strong enough to hold up a tree."

"Over here!" Both boys turned toward her call. She had disappeared completely around the wide base of the rock. They looked at each other, then started at a run.

They didn't get far before they had to tread carefully over the uneven ground. The waves splashed up over the rocks, making it hard to keep their footing as they worked their way around. Caoimhe was standing on top of a larger outcrop. She was pointing triumphantly at an identical row of windows. with the same ledge around them, but the crumbled rock from above had slid so close to the windows, she could almost reach up and touch them.

"Outstanding!" Cai, exclaimed, scrambling up after her.

"I could reach that," Kalyn said, following.

It was a little farther, upon closer inspection, than it looked from below. Cai took an attempt at leaping for the window, came down on the rocks and almost toppled backward. Kalyn righted him. He looked up at the window, not far above him. He crossed his arms and rubbed his chin.

"Come here, Cai, I'll boost you up," he finally decided.

Cai excitedly stepped up. His brother knelt down and cupped his hands and in a move clearly practiced at the base of hundreds of trees, Kalyn hefted his smaller brother up until Cai was standing on his shoulders. Caoimhe clapped and jumped up and down. Cai reached up and out.

"A little closer," he said, stretching his fingertips until they just scraped the stone ledge, "almost."

Kalyn stood on his tip toes and lurched forward. Cai grabbed the ledge.

"Push me up! Push me up!" Kay took either of his feet and pushed as hard as he could up over his head. Cai hauled himself up onto the ledge.

"You did it! You did it! My turn!" Caoimhe cried out.

Kalyn looked from the ledge to his yet smaller sister. "Alright," he said, taking a deep breath. He cupped his hands again and whipped her up onto his shoulders. Cai lay on the ledge and reached down to pull her up. They sat on the ledge, catching their breath and staring down at Kalyn.

"Now what?" he asked, suddenly realizing that he had no way up.

Cai and Caoimhe looked at each other and then down at Kalyn. Together they flattened themselves and stretched out to grab him. Kalyn jumped and grabbed Cai's hand, pulling him down head first.

Caoimhe screamed and jumped for Cai's legs, trying to keep him from sliding off entirely. She grabbed his belt and started pulling in the opposite direction.

"Pull!" she yelled.

"Pull harder!" Kalyn commanded.

"Stop pulling!" Cai cried.

Kalyn let go and Caoimhe flew backward into the window behind her, breaking the stained glass and disappearing into the darkened tower. Cai smacked into the stone ledge as Kalyn wobbled to catch his balance on the rocks. Kalyn steadied his stance and stared up at the ledge, both of his hands clutching his head in dismay.

"Cai?" he asked, "are you ok?"

Cai leaned over the ledge, his hand over his mouth, blood dripping between his fingers. He nodded.

"You're bleeding!" Kalyn threw up his arms.

"Ibs juft my lib," he mumbled. "I bib my lib."

"Is Caoi ok?" he asked.

Cai disappeared, then poked his head back over, "She vell prew the bindow!" He disappeared again.

"Cai!" he called, "What is going on!"

Cai's head reemerged, "See said see's alwight."

Kalyn let out an audible sigh of relief. He looked around for options, then back up at the ledge.

"Cai," he said. There was no answer, "Cai!"

* * *

The room was dark and quiet and remarkably free of dust. Light streamed in through the broken window and glinted through the stained glass now that the heavy curtain had been torn down.

Caoimhe lay on her back staring up into the darkness wondering what just happened. "Caoi!" she heard her brother, but his voice sounded muffled. "Caoi? Ah you alwight?"

"Yes," she squeaked, unable to get enough air to be louder.

"Caoi-ba!" Cai called again, more insistent.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. "I'm alright!" she said as loud as she could. "Ow." She lifted up her arm and looked around at the shattered glass then up at the window.

"Cai? Cai I'm fine, are you there?" She picked herself up slowly, trying to avoid the glass shards. She had pulled what remained of the curtain down when she took out the lower window, but it kept her from hitting the stone floor.

"Caoi-ba," Cai's shadow fell on the floor. He looked around the window and pushed in some of the broken glass. "I'm coming in," he announced. He cleared the glass with his sleeve and climbed in. The windows were low to the floor, so it was not much of a drop. He looked around.

"Wow," he said. The room was larger than it had looked from the outside, and they realized the tower was cut into the side of the cliff. As their eyes adjusted to the light, the room emerged from the darkness. There was a settee and a small table next to a book shelf and across the room, a writing desk. Cai picked his way across the glass and pulled a book off the shelf.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking around as if the room's occupants might walk in at any moment.

He smiled at her and wiped some of the blood from his chin. "Its ok," he said, finding it easier to talk as the bleeding slowed, "no one libes here anymore, remember?"

"Oh...oh yeah," she said, relaxing and giggling a little. "I forgot." she started to inspect the table and the writing desk. There were blank papers and blotters, she sat down slowly on the small chair. It creaked under her.

"How long do you think these things have been here?" she ran her hand over the desk, but it too was free of dust.

"I don't know," he said squinting to see the words on he page. "Since the Scourge came maybe?"

Kalyn's voice floated in from outside. Cai folded the book and went back to the window. "I don't think we can get him up," he said.

Caoimhe joined him at the window.

"We could throw down the curtain," she suggested.

Cai looked at her brightly, "That's brilliant!" He leaned over the window, "Kay! We're going to throw down the curtain!"

Carefully, they lifted the curtain and let the broken glass fall to the floor. Then, with a warning call to Kalyn, they tossed the top of the curtain out the window and over the ledge. Cai wrapped his end around his waist and Caoimhe grabbed the curtain in front of him like a tug of war rope. She looked back at Cai, who nodded.

"We're ready!" she yelled.

Kalyn was doubtful that the curtain would hold him. They had done this with rope, he wasn't concerned that Cai and Caoimhe could hold him up, but he wasn't sure a hundred year old curtain would. He tugged at it, looked down at the water and rocks below him and tugged again.

"Come on!" he heard Cai's voice from inside.

"I don't think it will hold me!" he said.

"Come on!" Cai's voice was insisent.

Kalyn frowned and reached as high as he could. He planted one foot against the rock and started to pull himself up. The curtain stretched a little, and he felt the slide as Caoi and Cai tried to find purchase on the ancient stone floor. He got about three inches up when the curtain started to rip against the ledge. He let go and dropped to the rock. The curtain flew up as Cai and Caoimhe fell backward for lack of weight on the end of their line.

"Sorry," he called up to them. "But it won't hold me up."

Cai leaned carefully out the window. "There has to be a door," he reasoned. "Go around the outside, we'll go around the inside and we'll find a door to let you in."

Kalyn grumbled that is was likely the only option and set of around the base of the spire.

Cai turned back to Caoimhe. "I guess we're on our own for now," he grinned. "We need to find a way to let Kay in."

Caoimhe went to the doorway and peered in both directions, "It's very dark," she said. "We need a torch or a lantern or something."

"How about a candle?"

"Perfect!" she said, hurrying over to the desk where Cai was. They both stared at the candle in the little holder.

"Do you have a flint?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Maybe there's one in the desk."

He looked around in the same place he had found the candle.

"Here we are," he said producing a small flint from a shelf under the desk. He tried to get the candle to catch. After several minutes of trying, he gave up in frustration. "Ugh," he grunted, "It's too old." he declared, dropping it onto the desk and handing the candle to Caoimhe. "Maybe there's something else here," and he went to check the settee table to see what he could find.

Caoimhe picked up the flint and clicked it a few times. She couldn't tell if there was any tinder in the little holder to catch, she brought it close to her face to look. "There's no flint, Cai," she said clicking it a third time. As she did, the little candle leapt to life.

"Oh, brilliant," he cheered coming back over to her, "you got it." he took the candle carefully and started into the darkness.

Caoimhe stared at the candle, her eyes wide. "I...I didn't," she said, "there's no flint."

"Must have been just enough," he said.

The little candle did not break far into the darkness. Cai kept one hand on the wall as he moved down the passage. Caoimhe had her hand on his belt, looking back and forth and above them, taking in the still details of the once magnificent spire.

"Why do you think they left so much behind?" She asked.

Cai shrugged.

"Do you think they intended to come back?"

"Probably," he said as he tried the handle on the first door he came to.

"I don't think that goes outside," she said as he opened it.

"No," he said sticking the candle into the room, "These rooms are on the cliff side. We need to find a way up."

The room looked to be a bed chamber, simple and empty of any personal effects, but again, free of dust and signs of age.

Cai closed the door. "Kay will be livid if we he doesn't get in too," he said.

Caoimhe giggled at the thought of her brother red faced at the front door of the spire.

* * *

Kalyn climbed around the rocks, keeping as close to the tower as he could so as not to miss a possible entrance. As he had predicted, there were no entrances close enough to get to from the ground. Finally, his only option was to scale the cliff or go all the way around to the front. He looked at the sun in the sky and sighed. Justin and Tyrin would be wondering what happened to the three of them. They should be heading back with firewood soon. If they didn't he would never hear the end of it from the two of them. His brothers could be so unsympathetic to his situation. He looked up at the cliff face. He started to climb.

* * *

After about a half hour of wandering around the bottom level of the tower, inspecting the room with the windows on the far side of the tower, checking the nooks and crannies of the adjoining bedrooms, the little candle was a stub and they had found no way up.

"There has to be a way up," Cai said, leaning on the wall, "how did they get down here otherwise?"

"It must be a secret passage," Caoimhe said whispering, even though there was no one else to hear.

Cai thought about this. If the tower was both home and fortress, and the rooms they had come across were private, maybe the only way to get to them was a secret passage. His imagination started to race.

"Well," he said, "it would want to be on an inside room, I think." He started toward on of the doors on the inside wall.

"What are we looking for?" Caoimhe asked.

"I don't know," Cai grinned. "Where would you put a secret stair case."

Caoimhe thought about their small home. "Well," she said slowly, "it isn't going to be in a private chamber," she reasoned.

"That's good," Cai said. "so, a sitting room?"

"A ballroom?"

"A library!"

"Oo!" Caoimhe said excitedly heading back into the darkness, "there was a room with books."

"Caoi, stay by the light," Cai warned.

"Maybe we missed something," she said, feeling her hand down the hallway.

"Caoimhe, slow down, I can't see you," Cai said.

Caoimhe stopped and turned impatiently. "I can see just fine..." she stopped suddenly, taken aback by what looked like a host of angry elves clustered around Cai. She tried to suck in a breath but couldn't pull any air in. All she managed was a panicked squeak.

"What's wrong?" Cai took a step forward and the cluster moved with him.

Caoimhe took a shallow breath. "Nothing," she said, trying to connect the shadows with various points of light. She started to calm down, "Nothing, the shadows just looked...I'm fine." She turned back around and started feeling her way back down the hall.

* * *

Kalyn hefted himself over the last bit of the rise. He was covered in dirt and grass stains. He even had dirt in his hair. He brushed off and surveyed his position relative to the tower. His sour disposition brightened. He could easily get to the outside walk from his current position. From there, there must be a door or a window he could reach. He moved around to his best position, crouched, gauged his distance and with the mightiest leap he could muster, made a brilliant jump across the gap between the cliff and the outer walk. satisfied with himself, he looked around, but quickly remembered he was alone and no one would likely believe he had made such an impressive and graceful leap. He grumbled to himself about never having anyone around when he really needed them and started looking for a way in.  
The walkway followed the curve around the spire. Thinking tactically, he felt his best bet for an entry was on the sea side of the structure. He nodded at his own idea and again thought it a shame that no one was present to agree when he found, on short order, a gracefully curved alcove and a stained glass double door. He stepped up to inspect it. The glass was covered with a layer of salt spray and gull droppings. He wrinkled his nose. Debris had blown in and it looked as if at least a few seasons of sea birds had hatched there. Kalyn thought it sad, such a proud structure, reduced to decay in such a short period of time. He pushed gently on the center of the double doors. They were remarkably solid. Perhaps not so decayed after all. He nodded his personal approval. Gently, he started tapping on the frame to find a weak spot.

* * *

Caoimhe stayed ahead of the light, she found it easier to see down the hall that way. She followed the curve and checked each archway, trying to find the one she thought might be the library. She was caught off guard by a soft knocking. "Cai," she whispered, waving frantically for him to catch up. He hurried to her side.  
He stood expectantly.

"What?" he finally said.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"No," he said flatly, "What?"

"Knocking," she said, listening for the tapping again. "I heard someone knocking."

Cai frowned. "Not likely," he said sadly, "probably just mice."

"No," she insisted, "It was knocking, I swear." she tapped on the wall and listened. There was no response. "It was over this way," she said sliding a few feet forward. Her hand came across an archway. "Maybe in here?" Together with the candle, they leaned into the room.

"This isn't a library," Cai said.

"How can you tell, it's too hard to see with the candle in your face," Caoimhe said stepping out of the little ring of light. She was swallowed by the darkness.

"Caoimhe, stop it," Cai said, loosing her in the shadows.

"It's ok," she said from in front of him. The little flickers of dying candle light didn't do much to illuminate the room, but she could see a shape in front of her, curved and graceful. She reached back her hand. "Here, I can see a little," she said. "Hold my hand." she squinted at the shapes in the room.

Cai reached out and took her hand, the floor was smooth marble with red flecks in it, but unlike the rest of the rooms they had come across, the floor here seemed more warn, dulled, even dirty. He looked closer, leaning in with the candle.

"Are those foot prints?" he asked out loud as he leaned. It was then the little candle sputtered out.

Cai gasped. Caoimhe froze.

"Oops."

They stood in the darkness, unsure of what to do next.

"Alright, Caoimhe," he said more calmly than he felt, "We can just feel our way down the hall and climb back out the window we came in."

"But what about the stair?" she asked.

"We aren't sure there is a stair," he said, his voice starting to tense.

"Lets just see what's at the back of this room," she said, stepping forward, "Maybe there's a way out here." She reached out and started to pull him further into the room.

"Caoimhe stop it," he said tersely, resisting her efforts.

"Just a little further, Cai, then we'll go back," she pulled him a step further.

"Caoimhe stop!" he said, squeezing her hand and pulling her back. "I don't want to loose you."

Caoimhe stomped her foot and pulled her hand away from his. Instantly, she realized what a bad idea that was.

"Caoimhe, give me your hand," Cai said reaching out into the darkness ahead of him to find her.

"I'm right here, Cai," she said sliding her foot forward along the floor.

Cai leaned toward her, waving his arms to try to catch her.

"Stop tugging on me," she said, "I'm right here."

Cai froze, his arms still stretched out in front of him, his hands empty.

"I'm...I'm not tugging on you," he said.

He heard Caoimhe's breath come out in one short puff. A reddish glow loomed suddenly in front of him, he had to shut his eyes against it.

"Caoimhe," Cai said in a whisper, "Don't move. Just stay where you are."

He moved forward.

"Caoimhe?" There was no answer. "Caoi?"

* * *

Kalyn brushed the dust out of his eyes. he squinted at the narrow space where he estimated the latch would be then pulled a skinning knife from his belt. Carefully, he started to work the blade between the two doors. When the blade was in, he slid it up until it stopped. He could tell it hit metal, he angled the blade and worked it up, ignoring what the grinding must be doing to its edge. He felt it budge and pushed on the door. No luck, he tried again. The wind swept debris up into his face and he swore at the door. The latch budged a little more. He put his shoulder to the door, it cracked but stayed closed. In a fit of frustration he jammed his blade up. He felt the latch give way at the same time his slender hunting knife snapped. He cursed again, but at least when he tried the door, it swung open into the darkness.  
Kalyn straitened his vest and brushed the dirt and wood shavings off his trouser legs. He looked once back down the outer ramp, and stepped inside.

The sunlight didn't fall deep into the room, but he found that the room was smaller than he would have thought. More like a sitting room, with benches built into the walls, their cushions faded and deteriorating. On the other side of the room, opposite the door, he could see through to another set of glass doors. He crept to the archway, but it did not lead across. Much like the buildings in Silvermoon, a balcony looked down into a room below. The curved stair hugged the wall and descended into black. Kalyn considered his options. There was probably enough light to see by, once he reached the bottom. With his hand on the wall to guide him, he started to inch his way down the ramp.

* * *

Caoimhe blinked against the sunlight. She could see through the open windows that she was above the ocean. She spun around to take it in. The room was lovely, even if the colors had faded in the sun. There were arches on either side that led into the more dark hallways. The walls under the tall windows where lined with benches and cushions, but unlike the rooms below, these had been toppled and ransacked. She righted a bench and knelt on it to look out over the coast. she looked to be about midway up the spire. She frowned. How had she ended up here? She crept cautiously to the archway.

"Cai?" she called into the darkness. She waited for a reply, but none came. Her heart started to beat faster. She looked around for anything that might seem helpful.

In the center of the room, on a small ornate table was a red globe. It was wrapped in gold and glowing faintly. She stepped towards it, staring at her reflection in the surface. The room distorted oddly in the curve, making the shadowy arches seem taller and the room wider and longer. Caoimhe couldn't help smile at her own warped reflection. She turned to see what else might be in the room when a movement behind her reflected shoulder caught her eye. It seemed vaguely elven in its shape.

"Cai?" she asked hopefully. She reached out and touched the reflection.

And then she was in the dark again.

* * *

Cai stood panicked in the darkness. The red glow pulsed slightly and started to fade.

"Caoimhe!" he whispered hoarsely. He listen for an answer, but his blood was pounding in his ears. Shadows moved in the dimming redness. He crouched, moved forward cautiously, toward where Caoimhe was last. He reached toward the floor, fanning out his arms in case she had fallen. He froze, thinking he heard a scraping from the hall behind him. He held his breath, but nothing followed the noise but his own pulse.

* * *

Her head throbbed. Her hands were outstretched as if they were touching the orb, but there was nothing in front of her, only a faint red glow from behind. She looked around.

The glow came from another globe, identical to the one in the sunny room overlooking the sea, just behind her. It did little to illuminate the room, however. Her eyes started to adjust and she could see, barely, and she searched for the source of the light. She looked up, the light seemed to come from two doors, one on either side of the wall above her. She was torn between curiosity and practicality. Cai was down, he had to be, but light meant out and maybe she could find Kay. Caoimhe blinked. The shadows around her started to swirl. she told herself it was her imagination. Her eyes were adjusting and she could see furnishings in the rounded chamber. More settees, lots of bookshelves. Mirrors? She jumped up and down a little. There was a library. She could see the curved ramps that led up to the doorways. She bit her lip, trying to decide which way to go. If she wanted to find Cai, she had to find another candle, or a lantern, or something. She felt her way across the room to a table against the wall. The mirror reflected the fading light from the orb. Caoimhe squinted at her reflection. Again, over her shoulder, she thought she saw someone. She gasped and spun around, toppling books and nicknack's off the table, but there was no one visible. she squinted into the darkness as her heart started to calm. whatever had fallen off the table rolled into her ankle and she jumped, panicked. A small ball rolled away from her feet. She reached down and grabbed it with both hands. Suddenly, a bright warm glow filled the room, emanating from the fist sized ball she held. Caoimhe marvelled. She had heard about such "lanterns", but had never seen one. She took a better look around the room. This room looked untouched, like the private rooms they had found below. Portraits hung on the walls. She looked at one across from her, then back at the mirror. She smiled. She must have seen the portrait in the mirror, over her shoulder. She walked toward it. The elf in the painting was graceful and proud. She didn't smile, but neither did she look grim. Her long hair was braided back at the sides and she wore green dyed skins and carried a longbow. A ferocious looking tiger crouched at her feet, prepared to pounce on anyone staring up at the portrait. It looked very lifelike. Caoimhe held the little light up to get a better look. As she stepped forward, she felt something under her foot. She looked down, putting the little light closer to see. On the pristine marble floor was a delicate pendant. Caoimhe looked around as if she expected to see who dropped it. She bent down to pick it up. as soon as she let go of the little light with one hand, the glow stopped and the room once again plunged into darkness.

Caoimhe gasped. She shoved the pendant into her pocket and grabbed the orb with both hands again. It started to glow, but not as bright this time. Caoimhe frowned. How long would the light last? A sudden banging from above her caused her to jump. She bit her lip and hoping the light would work again when she needed it, put it in her other pocket and backed up against the wall between the mirror and the bookshelf. she stared at the portrait, now lit only by the glow from the doors above. The lady in the portrait was looking at her. A shutter ran down Caoimhe's spine. Neither she nor her cat had moved, but in the dark, they seemed different. The cat prepared to pounce at the ramp. Maybe he was guarding the room? Caoimhe shook her head to clear it. A noise from above caught her attention. Someone was coming down the ramp.

Kalyn stopped about halfway down. The light from above didn't reach any farther and he hesitated. He closed his eyes to adjust his vision, a trick Dahanan had taught him. He took a few blind steps into the dark. When he felt the light off his face, he opened his eyes. He smiled pleasantly at how well his brother's tips worked and kept down the ramp into the room below. He noticed the book shelves and the couches and mirrors and glanced briefly at the portraits, but what interested him most was the centerpiece of the room. The orb swelled in gold looked familiar to him. He moved purposefully toward it.

"Kay!"

Kalyn yelped and jumped backward, brandishing his broken blade at his little sister as she attempted to tackle him from the darkness.  
She stopped short, afraid he might actually stab her, but she smiled at him anyway.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Kalyn took a deep breath and straitened himself.

"Nothing," he said. "You startled me." He put away his blade and stepped up to inspect her. "Are you alright?" he asked stiffly.

"I'm fine," she said hurriedly, "but.."

He looked around, "Where is Cai?"

"I don't know," she said, her face falling. "We were in the bottom, where we came in, and there was a room and the candle went out and something grabbed my shirt. I thought it was Cai, but it wasn't, I was just tangled and I tried to untangle myself and then I ended up in a room above the cliff and..."

Kalyn's head snapped back to her, "ended up" he asked, "What do you mean?"

Caoimhe shrugged. "I don't know," she said.

Kalyn looked from his sister to the orb on the table. He took her hand. "Come," he said. "We have to find Cai."

Kalyn was not entirely sure his hunch was correct. He had seen an orb like this before. He had been with Dahanan, in the Sunstrider palace. It sat guarded in a lonely room off the main chamber. It was much larger than this one, however. He had asked Dahanan about it when they were alone, and had been told it was used to move from place to place, magically. Why wouldn't the Windrunner's have had such devices? He was, of course, only guessing. He glanced sideways at Caoimhe, swallowed his doubt and placed both their hands on the orb.

* * *

Cai didn't want to leave the room where he lost Caoimhe. He couldn't see anything, but he was sure she had to be there somewhere. He remembered the question that had brought them to the spire to begin with and swallowed hard. "Do you think its haunted?" Caoimhe had asked.

Maybe she had found their trapdoor, or a hidden staircase. He started to crawl along the floor, first finding the wall. He stood up and started to feel his way forward, deeper into the room. He came to an alcove, bumped into a pedestal, sending its contents to the floor. It crashed deafeningly in the silence. Cai winced and stood completely still for what felt like an eternity. He took a few cautious steps, crunching through the broken marble.

"Caoimhe?" he kept whispering into the darkness.

He worked his way around the many alcoves, careful of the remaining pedestals. He caught gauzy curtains, tripped over a low bench, fell into a bookshelf, and finally came back to where he had started, the archway they had entered through, but no sign of a stair case, no trap door, and no sister. Desperate and frightened and suddenly thinking perhaps Kalyn had been right, Cai sat on the floor and started to cry.

* * *

Kalyn was surprised at how easy it was. He had been expecting some sort of disorientation, or dizziness, but really, all that happened was a large flash of light and suddenly he was in the dark, still holding Caoimhe's hand.

"Caoimhe," he asked, "is this where you came from before?"

"Kay!"

"Cai!" Caoimhe let go of Kalyn's hand and grabbed the little ball in her pocket. The room was suddenly illuminated, if dimly.

Kay and Cai both looked shocked, Caoimhe smiled at them and ran up to Cai as if she would throw her arms around him, but remembered to carefully keep both hands on the ball.

Cai dried his face with his sleeve. Kalyn looked at his brother and pretended not to notice the tears. "Where did you get that?" he asked.

Caoimhe held up the ball. "This?" she asked, "I found it. In the room with the portraits."

Kalyn frowned, he caught sight of the other orb in the middle of the room. "Well," he said, "we can use the orb again and then go out the way I came in," he sized up the two of them, judging whether or not they could make the leap back to the cliff.

"But this isn't the room I came from," Caoimhe said.

Kalyn looked confused. "It isn't?"

Caoimhe shook her head.

"But you were here," he looked from her to Cai.

She nodded. "Did you use this orb?" he asked.

Caoimhe looked sheepish. "Not on purpose."

Kalyn sighed. "Well, we haven't got anything to loose, really." He grabbed Cai's hand and went to grab Caoimhe's, but she stepped backward.

He looked at her crossly. "Now see here," he growled, "I told you to begin with we shouldn't have come here, now I'm going to get us out and..."

Caoimhe held the little orb up. "The light will go out," she said simply.

"What?" Kalyn snapped, unhappy to have been interrupter.

"If I let go, the light will go out," she explained. "That's what happened last time."

Kalyn furrowed his brow, "Oh." He huffed. He took a breath. "Alright," he said. "Cai, hold onto Caoimhe's hand and both of you touch the orb. Caoi, just keep hold of the light. I will go around to the other side." He wasn't sure it would work. "Alright? alright, on three then. One, two, three."

* * *

The light was blinding compared to the darkened chamber below. Caoimhe let go of the globe to rub her eyes and blinked a few times before she recognized the room over the sea.

"This is it," she said running to the window and pointing out at the water. "This is where I was before." She turned back to the darkened archway, "but I thought I saw something in the orb, reflected in the orb," she explained quickly, "and I touched the orb and then..." she shrugged. "Then I ended up where you where."

Kalyn had walked to the window, leaned his head against the thick glass and craned his neck up. "I think," he said mostly to himself, "I think I was further up the tower."

Cai was staring into the dark in the passage beyond. "Caoimhe," he asked, "what did you see?"

"In the reflection? I don't know what it was," she said, "at first, I thought it was you."

Cai's face had turned ashen.

"It wasn't me," he said in a whisper, "I think it was them."

Caoimhe and Kalyn turned sharply to the darkened arch. In the shadows, hunched and shuffling, something was moving. They were vaguely elf shaped, but they hung close to the ground like hunting animals. Cai backed toward his brother.

"Cai," Kalyn whispered, "use the orb, it leads to the door out."

A sickly gray face appeared. They could clearly see two creatures. They seemed to be sizing up the trio, their mouths open and their eyes hungry. Kalyn slid carefully between his siblings and the creatures. "Go on," he said harshly. "Go!"

Suddenly, the room exploded in motion and sound. The first creature lunged for Kalyn, who, despite his best effort to sound brave, fell back at the ferocity of the attack. The second jumped past him to reach Cai. Cai grabbed Caoimhe's hand and hurtled her toward the orb, which he was afraid would shatter at the force of the two of them practically falling on top of it.

"Kay!" Caoimhe screamed just before she and Cai found themselves in the dim room with the portraits.

Kalyn heard Caoimhe's cry cut short and feared the second attacker had gotten past him. He had drawn his only weapon, his broken hunting knife and stabbed down at the lunging thing as it charged him, trying to jump to the side as if he were sparing with an unruly hawkstrider. He dodged the first swipe, but the second attacker, having lost sight of Cai, turned around and grabbed Kalyn by the back of his vest. He yelped and twisted and with a desperate kick backward, reached forward to get both hands on the orb.

Caoimhe knew where she was, and knew how to get out. The lady on the wall stared down at them as she grabbed Cai's hand and started pulling him in the direction of the ramp, the light, and the way out. The sun had risen, but the doorway was clear above them.

"Wait!" Cai said as they reached to top, "Where's Kay?"

They stopped and stared down into the empty darkness as the orbs glow faded to black.

"How do we go back?" Caoimhe asked.

Cai didn't get to answer, an arm had come down over his head.

Caoimhe screamed as someone hoisted her into the air. She kicked furiously. She couldn't see her attacker, but whoever it was wore gloves and was very solid. She threw her head back in an attempt to crack her foe in the face.

Cai couldn't see clearly, there was something over his head and arms, like he was wrapped in a web, or a sheet, or a...curtain?

"Ow!" he heard someone yell, Caoimhe let out a yelp as she fell to the floor.

Suddenly, and surprisingly, Cai saw yet another figure leap from the darkness over him and fall with a fierce cry into the fray.

"By the Light!" he heard a familiar voice swear.

"Kay! What's wrong with you?"

Cai shrugged off the curtain that had been thrown over his head.

"Kay, Kay, its us, calm down," Justyn was standing with his hands out to a crazed looking Kalyn, his broken knife bloodied in his hand. Tyrin stood holding his arm, bleeding from the wound Kalyn had just inflicted. Caoimhe sat on the ground wide eyed staring at Tyrin.

"It was a joke, Kay," Tyrin said. "We were just playing."

Cai watched Kalyn's face change as recognition took hold and he composed himself. He stood and took note of the blood on his knife. He stared from Justyn to Tyrin and without apology, wiped his blade on his torn vest. In a very grim voice he declared, "We have to get out of here. Now." He stormed past his older brothers, pulled Caoimhe up off the floor and headed out the way he came in.

* * *

On the way back to the camp, Kay walked ahead of them, picking up firewood as he went, but speaking to none of them. Tyrin's "wound" was not much more than a deep scratch, he wound a cloth around it and quietly assisted with the gathering of firewood, largely out of guilt. Justyn put Caoimhe on his shoulders and she told them of the events in the spire as they wound their way through the woods.

"Are you certain you were attacked?" Tyrin asked Cai.

Both Cai and Caoimhe frowned at him. Justyn interceded.

"What did they look like?" he asked.

"Horrible!" Caoimhe declared.

"Big and grey, like," Cai tried to think of what they might compare to. "Like Quel'dori but...deadish."

"That...doesn't happen to Quel'dori, Cai," Justyn said quietly.

"Well something happened to them," Caoimhe said.

"Are you sure they weren't trolls?" Tyrin asked.

Cai kicked at a rock. "I know what trolls look like."

"They weren't trolls," Kalyn said as he started to build a fire. Justyn and Tyrin exchanged worried glances, but the conversation ended there.

Later, as Justyn went to bury the fish bones and the youngest had crawled into their bedrolls for the night, Tyrin sat down next to kalyn as he poked angrily at the dying coals. He stared at the embers, shifting uncomfortably, unsure what to say.

"We should probably tell Father," he finally said. Kalyn frowned. "If...if some...thing is living in the tower, we should tell someone." When Kaylin didn't speak he continued, "Justyn and I, we will tell him we went to the tower."

Tyrin didn't look, but he could tell his brother's face had turned to look at him.

"But he'll be angry," Kalyn stated what seemed obvious.

Tyrin nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Yes, but he won't be angry at you."

They were quiet for a few minutes.

"Thank you," Kaylin finally said.

Tyrin nodded and they sat in silence until the fire died out.


	3. Chapter 3

Cai stood rigid, excited but terrified next to his father. He always knew this day would come. All of his brothers had been pages. It had always been assumed, and he had never questioned it, but standing next to his father, looking at the two paladins in their official tabards with swords at their sides, the business around them, the banners flying over the barracks, his stomach had started to turn. Suddenly, he wasn't sure if he was ready.

Bachanan was in deep discussion with the other paladin. Cai tried not to listen, it would be rude, but he couldn't help it. This was his future, after all. "...if he is anything like his brothers," the other was saying.

Bachanan's hand clapped down unexpectedly on his shoulder. It caught him off guard and knocked him off balance. "He is a fine boy, I have complete confidence in him," Bachanan said. Cai blushed slightly at the praise. His father's praise was never given lightly.

The other paladin nodded. "I'm sure," he said. He looked Cai up and down. "You aren't as tall as Dahanan was at your age."

Cai straitened reflexively. He was always being compared to his older brothers. He assumed that would only get worse as he started his training as a paladin. Bachanan came to his son's defense, "He is younger than Dahanan was when he came to be a page." he looked at his youngest son and nodded, "But he is every bit as smart," and then he added, "and every bit as dedicated."

Cai's stomach rolled over again. He had a great deal to live up to.

The paladins shook hands. "We will send him home in a few weeks, after he has learned his duties, if he can manage the time, I have no problem with him returning home as Salina needs him."

Cai inwardly sighed with relief. His mother had considerable respect among the paladins in Tranquillien, as she was often there herself, serving as a nurse.

"I appreciate your allowing him to stay in Tranquillien," Bachanan said, his face becoming more serious. "It will be a tremendous help to his mother, especially after I leave for the Outlands."

Cai blinked in surprise and turned to look at his father. This was the first he had heard of his father leaving Quel' Thalas. Bachanan shot his son a grave look and Cai immediately turned his attention elsewhere. Pages heard a great deal, and were expected to pretend they did not. This he knew from his four older brothers, who all had varying degrees of success with that particular rule.

"He will have an equal education here, I assure you."

"I have no doubt, Osselan" Bachanan turned to his son and put both hands on the new page's shoulders. He looked for a moment as if he might say something, but instead he squeezed Cai's skinny upper arms and nodded at him. Cai furrowed his brow and nodded back. Then Bachanan shook hands one more time with his compatriot and with no further ceremony, turned sharply on his heel and headed to the stable to retrieve his mount and continue his day.

Cai watched him go, a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him.

"Well Cai," his new master said. "Shall we begin?"

Caoimhe sat atop the hill overlooking the road to their home for hours after Bachanan and Cai had ridden off to Tranquillien. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her chin resting on them, over come by a sense of loss she was unfamiliar with. She heard her mother coming up behind her, but she didn't want to move. Salina sat down on the grass next to her and stared off down the road.

"You've been out here a long time," she said.

"I know," Caoimhe said quietly, "I'm sorry."

"He hasn't gone far, you know," she said.

"I know," she said again.

Salina rocked back slightly on her hands, trying to decide what words of comfort she could offer her daughter.

"Think of this as your opportunity to be out of your brother's shadow," she offered.

Caoimhe didn't say anything right away. "I...I have never felt that I was in his shadow," she said.

Salina took a deep breath, "It isn't easy to be the youngest sometimes," she said.

"No, it isn't," her daughter said.

"You'll be joining them soon enough," she said, patting Caoimhe on the back. "The order won't know what to do with all of you."

Caoimhe smiled, "Maybe we can be our own detachment."

"Maybe," Salina grinned. "I think that might have been your father's intention all along."

Caoimhe leaned into her mother's arm. "I miss him already," she said.

"I know."

They sat staring off at the road together for a long time. "Do you know what we need?" Salina finally said.

Caoimhe turned her head to look at her.

"Cake," Salina said without looking down. "We most definitely need cake."

Caoimhe smiled.

"When have you ever had a cake that you did not need to share with your brothers?" her mother asked.

"I...I don't think I have ever," she said, almost surprised by the idea.

Salina stood and took her daughter's hand, "Then it is about time."

Caoimhe sat silently at the table while her mother baked. She could tell Salina was trying to be more cheerful than she felt. She talked as she baked, something her mother rarely did. Caoimhe fetched what she was asked and answered her mother's questions, but otherwise she just sat at the table and drew pictures with her finger.

"Caoimhe," her mother finally sighed, "You aren't even trying."

"I'm sorry?" she stiffened and put her hands in her lap. "No," Salina tried again, she sat at the table across from her daughter and held out her hands. Caoimhe lay her hands in her mother's. "Are you happy for your brother?"

She nodded.

"And don't you think he will make a wonderful knight?"

She nodded more slowly this time.

"Then can't you be more cheerful? You didn't act like this when Kay left, or Ty or Justyn," she named off all of her children who were all now at some level of paladin in the Order. Caoimhe thought about her brothers, she had been close with all of them. But they were all older, she didn't even remember a time when Dahanan was not in the Order.

She looked at her mother with a genuinely lost expression, "But Cai and me, Cai is...we are...we are friends."

Salina searched her daughters face for some sign that this was merely a girl's melodrama, and found none. She sighed with the realization that her daughter didn't have much practice at girlish anything.

"Oh, Caoimhe," she sighed, patting her hand and smiling. She changed tactics suddenly, standing and returning to the cake. "Why don't we go to Tranquillien after Cai is settled? We will ride in with Father and you can help me in the infirmary. Then we can spy on your brother a little. Would you like that."

Caoimhe perked up and nodded. "Yes, I would," she said, "Thank you."

Salina smiled and continued her baking, this time, in a comfortable silence.

Cai found the work of being a page was not terribly different than just being Bachanan's son. He did as he was told, fetched things, had a mountain of chores, and was expected to show proper respect to everyone around him. What he was not used to was the absolute lack of respect anyone showed him. He was pushed around, ordered about, called an idiot; equipment was shoved at him, plates were piled on him, messages were tossed at him and he was, with very little word, expected to know exactly what everyone wanted all the time. By and large, the bulk of the abuse was heaped on by the squires, who were most recently pages themselves and still remembered how badly they had been treated and saw the new pages as some kind of fair game for their own mistreatment. The initiates were far too busy to give him much thought, and if they needed anything, they may not have been polite, but they were at least direct and quick about it. The knights were some odd mix of thetwo. Neither abusive nor kind, they used the pages like tools. The pages served a clear function within the structure of the order, that was obvious, but it was also clearly intended to weed out the feint of heart. Even with his brother's warnings, Cai found it hard to take the treatment and would sneak off to the stables in the first few days as often as possible to stab the hay bales and get his bearings. It was during one of these fits that he found himself watched.

"I can't believe that bale did anything that warranted such harsh treatment," came a voice from behind him.

Cai whirled around, suddenly bolt upright and flush with embarrassment. His body relaxed and his expression changed to relief when he saw his oldest brother there. He rushed to embrace him, but then stopped short, looking around to see if three was anyone else there. Dahanan smiled and leaned against one of the stall posts.

"It's ok, Cai, it's just me," he grinned.

Cai nearly tackled his brother, but only briefly and then tried to recover from what he thought must look like a very juvenile gesture.

"What are you doing here?" he asked excitedly. "Are you coming home? Do Mother and Father know you're here?"

Dahanan smiled and nodded. "Father knows I am coming, yes," he said. He pushed himself off the post and pointed to a pitch fork and a shovel on the stable wall. Cai grabbed them. "Might as well be useful while you're out here," he said.

Cai's face fell a little, "Not you too."

"Now, now, Cai," his brother said, "Light's blessings fall on the useful."

Cai grumbled something, but started spreading the hay about the troughs. To his surprise, Dahanan grabbed the shovel and started cleaning out the nearest stall.

"What are you doing?" Cai asked.

Dahanan shrugged, "Being useful."

Cai shook his head, "None of the other knights would do that."

Dahanan smiled a little, "Most of the knight initiates here haven't been out of Quel'Thalas yet. Once they have, trust me, they will miss cleaning the stables."

Cai thought about this quietly. His Brother had been posted in the Outlands. Rumor had it they fought demons the size of houses and war machines that could fell whole cities. He couldn't imagine why he had been recalled.

"Why are you here," he asked again, suddenly suspicious.

Daan was quiet. "I remember being a page," he said, changing the subject. "The first month is the hardest. After that, no one gives you a second glance."

Cai wouldn't be easily dissuaded. "What is going on, Daan? Why have you come home?" he amended quickly, "I mean, I'm happy to see you. Very happy to see you, but..."

Daan stopped and leaned on the shovel. "You're very smart, Cai, but a page's job is to be silent and keep his opinions to himself unless asked."

Cai's cheeks turned red. He went back to the hay.

"The Order needs observant and intelligent knights as much, if not more, than brutishly strong ones," Dahanan continued. He went back to shoveling and asked, "How have the first few days been?"

"Awful," Cai said gloomily. Daan nodded, "It's supposed to be. Not too much work, is it?"

"Oh, no," he said. "that isn't bad at all, it's just like home, only with more people." Daan nodded. "I guess that's why Father makes us do all those things at home."

Daan's smile broadened and he continued nodding. "Not such a bully is he?" Dahanan asked.

"No, I guess not," Cai reasoned. Then his expression changed and he stabbed the hay with venom, "But the squires sure are."

Again, Daan nodded. "Don't let them push you around. You're made of stronger stuff than that.'

"What am I supposed to do? They treat me like...like dirt," he lost his grip on the fork in his frustration and it flew into the far wall. He sighed. The noise of the crashing utensil brought a squire around from the front entrance. He spied Cai and grinned viciously. "Hey you!" he pointed, "I need a saddle polished and readied," he dropped a sack of gear on the stone floor, "and these need polished as well."

Dahanan looked at the pained expression on his brother's face and cleared his throat. "I am afraid I will require the page's services," he said. Without looking at the squire he said to Cai, "I need you to take a message to Master Bachanan. I need to meet with him at his earliest convenience," he pulled a scroll case out of his satchel and handed it to Cai.

"Master Bachanan is in Silvermoon, sir," the squire offered.

"Is he?" Dahanan considered this and stroked his chin.

"I could ride there, if you wish," the squire offered.

"Not necessary," he said as he handed Cai a small sack of coin. "You will have to hire a dragon hawk, page." Both the squire and Cai stared at Dahanan. "Have you ever ridden one?" Dahanan grinned.

"No!" Cai breathed. "I mean..no sir."

"Well, about time you did," he said. "Make haste." he turned to the clearly astonished squire. 'You should get to the saddle then, and after that, I suggest you finish mucking out the stall and spreading the hay." And he turned to walk away, winking at his brother as he passed.

The first night alone in the loft was so quiet, Caoimhe couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned and sat up and paced around. She stared at the four other beds and watched the stars through the window. Eventually, she gave up on sleeping in the room that was now hers alone and she crept down to the kitchen where she fell asleep with her head on the table. The second night wasn't any better and she asked her mother if they couldn't go right away to Tranquillien. Salina empathetically insisted that Cai deserved a little time to adjust. Did she want him to think they were checking up?

Caoimhe wandered out into the yard and fed the chickens. She walked around the house several times and finally decided to go fishing. Salina happily sent her out to the pond near the house.

Caiomhe planted her pole between some rocks and sat staring at the water. Nothing she did made her feel better and everything she did was something she used to do with Cai. She ignored the nibbles on her line and picked up her pole. Dragging it through the water behind her, she waded up the stream that fed the pond. Without Cai to talk to as she walked, she listened to the sounds of Eversong woods. The birds were singing and the breeze in the trees rustled the leaves. Her legs started to get cold from the water, but the sound of the brook over the rocks gave her some comfort. She heard a squirrel jump overhead. She returned home hours later, empty handed and covered to her knees in mud.

"Can we go tomorrow?" she asked her mother.

"Lets give him a little more time," her mother said. Caoimhe went about her chores silently, wondering, if the days felt this long, how long would a week feel?

By the end of a week she couldn't stand it. Exhausted from lack of sleep and miserable at the silence in the loft, she snuck out of the house alone and started walking to Tranquillien.

Caoimhe wasn't a stranger to Eversong at night, and the road was a well traveled one. The air was chilly, but the sky was clear and bright with stars. The long deep shadows teemed with their own life in a way she had never noticed when she was with her brother. Crickets chirped, nocturnes rustled in the bushes, an owl called to its mate, who called back. Bats swooped overhead chasing insects.

She found if she walked in the shadows, she could see everything more clearly. The walk to Tranquillien took far longer on foot than by strider. She kicked herself for not taking one, but that would have gotten her into trouble. Well, more trouble.

Tranquillien was in deep quiet when she crept around the corner of the building that housed both the chargers and the pages. She knew from countless trips and four other brothers who served as pages where the small passage was behind oats stores and under the water trough where a beleaguered page might sneak out for some privacy. Or sneak back in. Someone her size could wriggle through the split with no trouble at all. She wondered how Dahanan had ever managed it. Not all the cots were full, pages always changed in number and were coming and going. Caoimhe crept along the wall, peering at the faces in the beds. She reached the end of the row of cots and realized, none of the pages where Cai. Distressed and suddenly very worried, she stood in a dark corner, considering her options. She sat on the edge of an empty cot and frowned at the sleeping pages.

"Who are you?" a hazy voice gasped from behind her.

Caoimhe jumped and turned around. A rumpled sleeper sat up in her bed. "I'm looking for Cai," Caoimhe whispered.

The girl rubbed her eyes and brushed her hair out of her face. "The new boy?" she grunted. Some of the pages where starting to stir. "They sent him to Silvermoon," she said. She was starting to wake up and was staring at Caoimhe, trying to place her face.

"Silvermoon?" Caoimhe bit her lip. She slid toward the exit.

"Hey," the girl said, throwing off her covers, "Hey, who are you? What are you doing here?"

Caoimhe frowned and put her finger to her lips. "Please don't wake anyone," she asked as she slid into the crawl space.

The girl followed her, amazed that she had never noticed the missing board behind the table before. She inspected the hole, looked back at her fellow pages, pulled a trunk in front of the exit, and followed the intruder out of the loft.

"Hey!"

Caoimhe cringed when she realized the page was following her.

"Hey, girl!" Caoimhe slid between two hay bails and waited.

"Come out this instant or I will tell," the girl seemed to think about who would be the most intimidating authority she could call upon, but she finally said, "The masters will not like to hear Cai is having illicit visitors!"

Caoimhe stepped out of the shadow and eyed the girl angrily. "I am not illicit," she said angrily, "I am his sister."

The girl looked both pleased and surprised.

"Well," she huffed, "Either way, you are not supposed to be here."

Caoimhe puffed out her chest. "I can be...I can be where ever I choose," she said. "You are supposed to be in bed."

The girl's eyes got wide as she realized this intruder was right. Caoimhe smiled to herself, then she asked, "When did Cai leave?"

The girl shook her head and then frowned at Caoimhe, "I don't know, earlier. A knight came from the Outlands and sent him on a dragon hawk to Silvermoon." The tone of jealousy in her voice was lost on Caoimhe whose mind started to turn as soon as the page had mentioned the Outlands.

"Why?" she asked, stepping closer and checking to be sure no one was nearby, "why did they send him to Silvermoon."

The girl shrugged, "To carry a message to one of the Masters."

Caoimhe forgot her irritation with the page, "Thank you," she said as she turned to go.

"Wait," the girl said, "Where are you going?" She seemed somewhat irritated at her own helplessness. This intruder was walking away and she was doing...what, going back to bed?

Caoimhe turned back around. "Silvermoon, I guess," she said. Her mind had seized upon the worse possible scenario for Cai being sent to Silvermoon. Had something happened to Father? was Cai in trouble.

The girl stood dumbfounded. "You can't do that," she finally said.

Caoimhe started at her. "You should go back to bed," Caoimhe said to her, turning and continuing out of the stable.

The young squire frowned. "I'll tell," she said.

Caoimhe stopped and turned. "Why don't you leave me alone?" she said crossly. "I just wanted to see my brother. I..." she fumbled for an angry word bu couldn't manage one. She stood frustrated and only ended with, "I'm sorry I woke you."

The older girl shifted uncomfortably in her night dress. She hadn't expected an apology. She rubbed her arms against the chilly air. "That's alright," she said, "I mean I wasn't sleeping well anyway."

She looked at Caoimhe in the pale light and suddenly asked, "What's you name?"

"Caoimhe," she said quietly. "What's yours?"

"Gwynethed," she said, putting her hands on her hips and inspecting Caoimhe.

"Do you know Cai?" Caoimhe asked.

Gwenethed frowned, "No," she said, "Not exactly. I have met him, but we have not yet talked."

Caoimhe started toward the stable doors. "Well," she said, "you...you should. He is very," she tried to find the right words, "He is very fun, and he can catch fish with his bare hands."

Gwenethed blinked at her.

"Well," she said with an air of authority, "Be that as it may, you do not belong here."

Caoimhe sniffed and straitened, "Well. Fine. I'm leaving." And she stormed out of the stable.

The lights in the high arched windows where still flickering when Dahanan's dragon hawk landed on the marble courtyard where the paladins of Silvermoon trained. A squire deftly scooped up the dropped reigns and a young initiate stood waiting to escort him to the chamber where the officers met. A few vendors packing their carts took note of him as he passed. His tabard was not like the ones worn by the knights of Silvermoon. His long hair was pulled back and braided on the sides, permanently plastered to his head from the helmet he usually wore. His head felt naked without it. He stepped smartly through the grand arches, into the immaculate foyer and across the dais. He carried with him a letter, tucked into the inside of his now slightly travel worn uniform. He wore the travel well, though, and nothing distracted him from his task. His boots echoes in the hall with such purpose that conversation stopped. He entered a back chamber, did not stop until he stood just in from of the commander. He saluted and with a grim face presented the letter. The commander looked him over, took the letter and read it without comment. Dahanan stood and waited. The commander finished reading and nodded. He replaced the letter in the envelope and returned it to Dahanan.

"We are pleased to have you back," he said.

Dahanan did not answer right away, he seemed to be mulling over a properly neutral response. Finally he settled simply, "Thank you, sir." Then he added, "Do you know where I might find Master Bachanan?"

The commander raised an eyebrow. "So late?"

He nodded.

The commander waved a page to his side. "Take Master Dahanan upstairs," he said. The adolescent nodded, saluted and with her eyes lingering a little long on Dahanan, turned and stepped briskly toward the staircase.

Dahanan knew his way around the many chambers of the Order's head quarters. He didn't need an escort. He knew that upstairs where offices and dorms for the Order's elite leadership, but the Qel'dori where formal and this was a formality. He could do with a little less ritual and a little more practical, he decided, and when they reached the top of the tall curved stairs, he stepped in front of his escort and said, "Thank you, but I think I can find my own way." He didn't wait for the surprised page's response, but turned right down the long hall and disappeared around a corner. He was not surprised to see a light glowing from an open doorway. Dahanan straitened his tabard almost out of habit before stepping into the light. He looked either way down the hall, feeling oddly that he did not want to be overheard. He cleared his throat.

Bachanan looked up from his desk and smiled. He stood and came around to meet his son. They embraced briefly.

"Sit," the elder said, indicating a chair in the corner. He returned to the seat behind his desk. Dahanan sat, watching his father carefully.

"Your message did not say you would arrive tonight," Bachanan said.

"I did not see a reason to wait," he said.

Bachanan looked at his son's grim expression.

"You are not for pleasantries this evening," he observed.

Dahanan shook his head. Bachanan's face set. "Alright then," he folded his hands on the desk, "Lets have it."

Dahanan looked a bit surprised, he cleared his throat again.

"I think this is a foolish decision," he said simply.

Bachanan raised an eyebrow. "That's bold," he said, "To call your father foolish."

Dahanan shook his head. "that is not what I said. It is a foolish decision. You should be here, where your knowledge will best serve us."

Bachanan smiled a little at his son, "You are speaking as a son, not as a soldier."

"I cannot speak as both?"

Bachanan shook his head. "No, not always."

Dahanan stood and rubbed his chin. "I disagree."

"That's very clear," his father said. "Sit down, Dahanan, the decision has been made."

Dahanan turned back to his father, but did not return to his seat.

"You will take my duties here," Bachanan continued. "I think you will find it challenging enough."

Dahanan frowned. "It is the defense of our home, Dahanan, what could be more important?"

"Then why are you leaving it?" Dahanan asked.

Bachanan stared at his eldest son. He rest both his hands on the desk in front of him and said, "Because I believe my place is in the Outlands. I believe your place is defending Quel'Thalas. I believe this is where the Light calls me."

And Dahanan could not argue with that.

Bachanan stood. "I could think of no one I trust more."

Dahanan realized he would not talk his father out of the choice. He realized he never really had a chance of doing so.

Dahanan sighed. Bachanan relaxed.

"You should get a good night's sleep," he told his son. "We will begin reviewing your new duties tomorrow."

Dahanan nodded, knowing there would be no more conversation on the subject. He straitened, saluted, and started to go.

"Your brother is sleeping in a room upstairs," his father said, "there is an extra bed there, should you wish." Bachanan grinned over his writing, and without looking up said, "He was quite taken by the flight."

Dahanan smiled as he left the office.

The door clicked closed just before Dahanan rounded the corner. He grinned as the light from the hall fell on the lump in a blanket that snored unconvincingly.

"You're trying to hard," he said pulling off his gloves and dropping them on the extra bed.

"No I'm not," said the lump.

Dahanan laughed. Cai flipped the blanket off his head.

"You enjoyed the ride?" he asked.

Cai's eyes lit up, "It was amazing!"

Dahanan smiled, "well, I'm afraid you'll have to ride back the usual way. I have no urgent messages to send back."

Cai eyed his brother as he sat on the edge if the bed and took off his boots.

"So you," he tried to gauge his brother's response as he talked, "you're staying?"

Dahanan looked at him as he folded his clothes over the edge of the bed.

"I thought we talked about what pages should hear and not hear?"

Cai ignored him, "does Mother know?"

His brother stopped what he was doing and stared at him.

"Exactly what did you hear?" he asked.

Cai settled himself against the pillow.

"Father is going back to the Outlands," he said quietly.

Dahanan frowned at the page.

"I think you have missed your calling," he said under his breath.

"Does she?" Cai pressed.

"I don't know," Dahanan said, climbing under the covers. "That is between the two of them."

Cai looked dismayed, "but Daan..."

"Go to sleep,Cai," his brother said.

"Daan..."

"Sleep."

Caoimhe had been to Silvermoon before, but never alone and never on foot. She leaned against the stable wall in the dark mulling over her options. Perhaps she should go home and plan her expedition for another night. Perhaps he would be back tomorrow? Perhaps he had gone to Silvermoon at Father's request and the two of them would come home together. She resolved to start walking home, thinking she could get home before her mother woke. Hoping that the moonlight would hold and the clouds stay at bay, she started back through the shadows, worried about her brother and dismayed that she had done something as reckless as walk to Tranquillien to find him gone. The footfalls from the stable behind her made her fume. Caoimhe turned, prepared to berate the nosey page for continuing to follow her. She caught her breath. The figure by the wall was not a youth, not even an elf, and how she could have mistaken the troll's gate for that of the page was testament to how softly he must have been walking. He carried a spear, she could see the long tip gleam in the starlight. Biting her lip and swallowing her fear, she waited till the troll turned his head and dashed back into the stable.

Gwynethed still stood by the opening to the little passage. She was trying to decide if she should go back to her cot or inform on the intruder when Caoimhe grabbed her from behind and pulled her to her knees behind the trough.

"HEy!" Gwynethed started to yell, but Caoimhe waved her to be silent with such frantic insistence that she stopped and scowled.

Caimhe pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "Troll! Outside the stable."

Gwynethed's eyes went wide as it sunk in. Both girls stopped and listened. They could hear him now, and he was not alone. And they were coming into the stable. Caoimhe pulled on Gwynethed's shoulder and pointed to the hole. She nodded and the two of them scrambled out of sight and into the dormitory. The pages had no weapons to speak of, only utility knives and practice weapons made of sturdy wood. Caoimhe pushed a trunk in front of the stairs that led to the sleeping area, hoping it would slow the trolls down if they came for the pages. Gwynethed grabbed two metal pitchers and started banging them together. She leaned out the window with them, making as much noise as she could. Pages stirred in their beds. They heard the stomping and whinnying of frantic animals. The young squire assigned to keep an eye on the pages grabbed a pitcher out of her hand.

"Gwen, what's wrong with you?" he asked sharply.

"Trolls!" she yelled at him.

At first he frowned, then he stopped and listened. There was the sound of the animals, then of breaking glass. There was a whoosh and a crackle and the smell of burning straw.

He dropped the pitcher to the ground. "Fire!" he yelled, "Everyone out!" He started pulling pages out the beds. The smoke was rolling up the staircase. Shouts could be heard from the square bellow, angry cries in their own tongue and in a language they did not understand.

"The fire is on the stairs," one of the pages coughed.

Gwynethed looked from the window where the shouting rose to the covered secret passage. She grabbed her nearest compatriot and pulled him toward the opening.

"This way!"

The fire would spread fast in the stable. They all slid down behind the trough and out of the oat stores and pushed through the split in the wall. The troll had more than one friend. The sounds of steel on steel rang from the other side of the structure, accompanied by the sound of bow strings.

Caoimhe squeezed her way out of the hole in the wall behind the pages. She looked back at the burning building. Heavy beams lay across the double doors that led into the stable.

"The chargers!" she exclaimed.

She ran to the door and started to pull on the blocks with no effect. The pages saw her efforts and quickly ran to help, unbarring and pulling open the heavy doors in an effort to save the steeds and striders inside.

By this time, the entire villiage was roused. From where they were, the youngsters could see no trolls, but more and more where putting their efforts to putting out the fire. Two magisters, still in their dressing robes approached from either side of the structure, their hands out held, their eyes burning with inner concentration, chanting. They pushed the blaze as best they could, much more adept at creating fire than controlling it. A bucket brigade had quickly formed and the large water barrels and open troughs for the animals were upended to minimize the spread of the fire. Senior preists quickly arrived to ensure calm. As the panic and response calmed, some one called for an accounting of the pages who had been sleeping above the stables.

Caoimhe backed into a shadow. She knew, in all likely hood, she was not going to get home before sun up.

Dawn had not yet hit the spires when Dahanan was shaken awake. He rolled over to the unlikely sight of his father standing next to the bed. Daan sat upright, about to ask what had happened. He could tell by the look on his father's face that something was wrong. Bachanan frowned, nodding at Cai, who still snored gently in the other bed. Daan nodded, threw off the covers, grabbed his pants and followed his father out into the hall. Bachanan strode with purpose to the small office. There was a tense activity on the upper levels. Bachanan sat at his desk and his son stood, waiting.

"Lights blessings follow you, Dahanan," the elder Onior said. It was not said as a casual blessing.

"Sir?"

"Tranquillien was attacked last night," he picked up a parchment from the table and handed it to Daan. As Dahanan read the short description of what had happened, his father continued, "Your kindness to Cai may have saved his life."

Dahanan looked up from the letter. "I am sure he would have been safe regardless," he said, "It says here there were only minor injuries." he looked back at the letter. "Sounds like the stable is a loss, though." He handed the letter back, "are the trolls that emboldened?"

Bachanan frowned, "Emboldened or desperate. I am not sure which."

Dahanan waited. he expected his father to tell him they were leaving for Tranquillien. It was, after all, their home. It was, after all, where his wife was.

"We shall see," he said. He looked up at Dahanan. "We begin today, I trust you can find your way to the dining room?"

Dahanan blinked, "You do not...intend to go and assist?"

"In Tranquillien?" he said, "No, they are capable, and our duties are here."

"But surely, if you asked, they would permit you," Dahanan stopped as his father looked up at him.

"My duties are here," he said firmly. "We will return to Tranquillien in due time."

Dahanan nodded slowly.

"Take comfort in knowing your timeliness kept your brother out of harms way," Bachanan said as he returned to his work.

"It is a blessing she was where she was," the priestess said to an unconvinced Salina.

Salina's eyes were rimmed with red, and she stood in the back room with Priestess Kilnara. She glanced sideways at her daughter who was sitting on a bench in the hall. Caoimhe stared at her folded hands, listening to the two speak.

"Had she not," the priestess continued, "the trolls may have burned the stable and there would have been no warning to save anyone."

Salina shuttered at the implication. She rubbed her crossed arms against the imagined chill and finally nodded.

The priestess smiled and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. "There are beds upstairs. It would be safer to stay tonight," she said.

Salina walked out to the hall and looked down at Caoimhe. A thousand thoughts crossed her mind. She could have been killed, she could have been taken and, by the Light, the stories of what the trolls did to their captives. She rubbed her eyes.

"We are staying here tonight, possibly longer" was all she finally said. Caoimhe nodded and followed her mother upstairs.

The next few days were spent aiding with the infirmary. Salina may not have had the healing knowledge of the priests, but she was an alchemist second to none save the masters in Silvermoon. Her methods took longer, but she was respected and sought after for her knowledge and advice. The incident did not leave mass casualties, but as she had to come to collect her daughter and with the cause for the raid or any other plans the trolls might have a yet unknown, it seemed prudent to stay in the village.

Caoimhe ran errands, held trays of poultice and bandages, took messages between her mother and the priests and generally tried to be useful. Salina did not talk to her much, she didn't know exactly what to say. She disappeared in the middle of the night, putting herself in serious danger, but her reckless actions may have saved a dozen pages. And what if Cai had not been in Silvermoon and Caoimhe had not... the what ifs crept into Salina's mind unbidden all day as she tended to burns.

Caoimhe went about each task with her eyes down and a singular focus of not causing her mother any greater worry. On the second morning in Tranquillien, she took a message from her mother to the page Master, who was seeing to the rebuilding of the stable. The fire had engulfed one side entirely before it was extinguished, the stairs to the dorm was merely a pile of charcoal. The pages that had not suffered burns from attempting to free the prized horses where helping to rebuild their living quarters. Caoimhe stood and waited for the Master to read the message.

"Wait for me here, Miss Onior," he said, "I will send what she asks for. It will not take long."

Caoimhe nodded and waited, watching the pages stack lumber and haul away the ruins. She saw Gwynnethed with a ledger counting stacks of pegs and logs. The girls looked up from her work and smiled slightly. She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention and walked up to Caoimhe.

Caoimhe shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello," Gwynnethed nodded. She frowned a little. "I did not propperly thank you."

Caoimhe looked up at her, a little confused, "Thank me?"

"Had you not awakened me, we would all have been sleeping when the trolls came," she said gravely. She glanced around and then smiled at her, "I have received an official honor, or will when we have finished with the work."

Caoimhe looked at her and smiled tentatively back at her. "That's...that's very good news."

"That is, at least some part, thanks to you as well," Gwynnethed explained.

Caoimhe nodded.

"So," the page continued, "Thank you."

Caoimhe smiled. "You're welcome."

Gwynnethed smiled, some what relieved and nodded at the younger girl then ran back to her duties.

Caoimhe watched her as she waited for the master to return.

Dahanan followed his father and listened to his instruction. He did not relish the idea of trading his place on the battle field for his Father's administrative role. Their brief conversation the night he arrived was likely all the protest he would be allowed. But duty is duty and he would respect the wishes of the order, and of his father. By the third day, he had an extensive list to get accustom to. He could see how his father would find it challenging and while different, it would be no less work. He sat in a courtyard, reading over his notes when Cai marched up, saluted and said.

"Master Bachanan wishes you to dine with him this evening."

Dahanan glanced up at his brother's ridiculously grinning face.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Right now? Yes," he smiled, then his face became a mask of sobriety, "Do you wish to return a response to Master Bachanan, sir?"

Dahanan went back to his notes, "What do you think he'd do if I said I was too busy?"

Cai blanched. He had not considered a refusal.

"Why would you do that?" he asked.

Dahanan grinned.

"You don't want to do that," Cai said.

Dahanan looked up, "Oh no? Why not?"

An even larger, more ridiculous grin spread across Cai's face, "Pages aren't supposed to repeat what they hear."

His brother blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Alright then, dinner with Master Bachanan, please inform him I humbly accept."

Cai nodded sharply, saluted, then ran off toward the main building. "We're going home tomorrow!" he called back as he ran, "Father told me I could tell you that!"

Dahanan sighed and stood and stretched. He closed his notes and with a gate that told passers by that this was likely his only moment alone, he walked toward the dining halls.

Dinner passed quietly. Unlike the meals with the other knights or even the meals at home, Bachanan had a formal table set. A short table in a private room, not overly fancy, but with a fine view of Falcon Wing square. Dahanan wasn't used to such formal dinners. It didn't help that his father wasn't saying much.

"You have introduced yourself to the Squire Master?" he asked.

Dahanan nodded.

And a few moments later, "The Initiates are quite eager. They seem to be a little lacking, however. I trust your experience will be invaluable."

Dahanan smiled a little as he nodded, "You said the same thing about the last batch."

Bachanan frowned at first, "That doesn't make it any less true."

Dahanan continued to smile, "Yes father."

Bachanan shifted in a moment of uncharacteristic discomfort.

"Daan," he started. Dahanan stopped eating and looked up over his plate. His father hadn't called him Daan since he passed his trials and became a knight.

"Sir?" Dahanan put the fork down.

"There is another reason I asked that you be recalled."

He now had his son's full attention. In anticipation, the younger knight refilled his glass.

"I have been speaking to your mother," he began, "We have arranged for you to meet with a young lady. We feel you should be wed."

It was a small miracle Dahanan did not drop his wine.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"I...don't know what to say," he said quite honestly.

"She is a little younger than you, but not too young. She is quite smart, quite lovely," Bachanan took a large drink of wine. "The family is a strong one, very dedicated." He looked at his son, "What do you think."

Dahanan still didn't know what to say. He took a long drink to buy himself a moment to think.

Bachanan raised his eyebrows at the obvious stall. "Well," he continued, "it will, of course, be entirely up to you."

"And to her," Dahanan said quietly.

"What?" his father said looking up sharply.

"And to her," Dahanan said, pouring more wine. "Up to me and to her."

Bachanan frowned, "Well certainly, but what fault could she possibly find in you?"

The young knight laughed out loud. "She might simply not wish to marry me," he said.

"Dahanan," the elder knight set one elbow on the table and leaned toward his son. "You are a fine knight and it is time you seriously consider courtship. Now," he leaned back and watched his son for his reaction, "I am sure you have had opportunity in your life, both at home and away, to find romance." Dahanan took another drink. "Now it is time to consider what comes next."

Dahanan swallowed the wine. He took a deep breath and put both his hands on the table. With a confidence he did not feel he looked at his father and said, "Of course, I will be happy to meet her."

Salina was more than relieved to have her husband, eldest and youngest sons all in one place. They rode together proudly and she watched them from a small hill. When Caoimhe caught sight of Dahanan riding with her Father, she jumped up from her seat in the grass and charged down the hill and onto the path to meet him. He pulled her up to sit in front of him on the charger just as he once did before she could ride herself. Bachanan smiled in spite of himself, but his eyes were on his wife, who waited patiently where she stood. He dismounted and bowed and extended his hand to her. She smiled and took it and he kissed it gently.

Their children ignored them. Caoimhe was asking Dahanan a hundred questions and Cai was trying to tell his sister about the flight to Silvermoon.

"Are you listening?" he kept asking her.

"Where are they stabling the chargers?" Dahanan asked her, looking down the road to where the half torn down structure now sported a solid frame.

Caoimhe looked toward the burned building, "I...uhm, I could find out for you."

"No," Dahanan grinned, "That's a page's duty." He smiled at Cai. "Go inquire where the stables have been moved." Cai smiled and saluted and darted off.

"Did you and Mother come to assist at the infirmary?" Dahanan asked Caoimhe.

His sister blushed deeply and suddenly became intensely interested in the bridle of Dahanan's steed.

"Sort of," she mumbled.

Daan cocked his head a little at her tone.

"Caoimhe," Bachanan called from where he stood with Salina. The siblings where familiar with that particular tone. Dahanan watched Caoimhe's shoulders tence as she turned to look at their parents.

Salina stood with her arms folded, a look of half worry on her face. Bachanan had a stone blank stare.

"Yes?" she asked, her feet rooted to the ground, her face half behind the chargers bowed head.

"Come here."

Caoimhe gave Dahanan a look that might as well have said, "Think fondly of me when I am gone," and walked, eyes down up the little hill. Dahanan led his horse behind her, curious as to what trouble she could possibly have caused.

"Yes?" she said again.

"Your mother tells me you disappeared from the house, walked to the villiage in the middle of the night and put yourself in tremendous danger."

Caoimhe bit her lip and nodded. Dahanan quirked an eyebrow.

"And this after you were told to wait untill the two of you could travel together?"

Caoimhe nodded again.

"I would like a reply."

"Yes sir," she said miserably.

He took a deep breath, crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. He let out a heafty sigh.

"She also tells me, however, that you saved many of the squires by your actions."

Both of Dahanan's eyebrows raised. He looked at his Mother for confirmation. She frowned at him, a distinct "not now" look on her face.

Caoimhe looked up, surprised as well. "I...well, that is...I suppose so?"

Bachanan frowned, "It is a yes or no question, Caoimhe."

"Ye-yes? Sir."

Bachanan's face eased, "Well, that is...commendable. But we will discuss how to best address your misadventure regardless."  
Caoimhe dropped her eyes to the symbol of Silvermoon on her father's chest.

"Yes sir," she said.

Bachanan nodded. "Show your brother where you have been staying, we will make arrangements for him there as well."

"What about Cai?" she asked automatically, looking up at him.

"Cai will stay with the pages, of course," he said.

"We will not all stay together?" she asked, somewhat dismayed.

"Caoimhe," her father said with a tone of finality that ended the questions.

"Yes sir," she said again and turned to lead Dahanan into the village.

Dahanan watched the exchange with an odd mix of defensiveness and curiosity. He fell in step with his sister, the charger clopping behind them.

"Is that true?" he asked when they had moved a reasonable distance away.

Caoimhe nodded at the path.

A smile spread across Dahanan's face, "My sister is a hero?"

Caoimhe's head whipped around, "What? No," she stammered. "I..."

Her brother laughed. "I don't see why you are so reluctant to take the praise. Father was obviously pleased."

"You...you think so?" she asked.

Dahanan nodded, "Trust me, the fact that he postponed the issue is evidence enough."

Caoimhe frowned at the path, recalling the conversation in her head and trying to se what her brother saw so hopefull in her father's stern expression.

"Trust me, Caoi," he said, "I've known him longer than you have." He put his hand on her shoulder as they walked. "Tell me what happened," he smiled.

The family settled in the upstairs rooms provided by the priests. Bachanan and his eldest son talked of the campaign and what training the knights would need, at Bachanan's insistence, well into the night. When his father excused himself, Dahanan stared for a long time at the sky. A slender hand rest on his shoulder. He rest his over it and squeezed.

"Your father discussed things with you?" Salina said quietly.

Dahanan nodded.

"And you are amenable?" she asked.

He was quiet.

"I am amenable to meeting her," he said.

Salina smiled, "That's all I ask." She sat down next to him in the seat his father had vacated. "You know," she said smiling, more reminiscent than conversational, "your father and I met much the same way."

Dahanan smiled, "Yes I know." He sighed. "I will meet her, mother, and happily."

Salina kissed him on the head as she went to join her husband for the night.

Caoimhe slipped out the back door of the graceful structure the same way she slipped out of her own home, through the kitchen. She stayed in the shadows of the building untill she reached the little square where the pages had pitched their tents. She peeked in each of them untill she saw the familiar outline of Cai on his bedroll.

"Cai!" she whispered as loud as she dared, barely able to contain herself. "Cai wake up."

Cai moaned and rolled over and blinked his eyes. When his gaze fell on the shadowy figure next to his bed, he jumped with surprise and nearly rolled into histent-mate.

"Caoimhe!" he whispered, his eyes on the page sleeping next to him, making sure he hadn't woken up. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she said, looking at his as if he should have known that already.

"But," Cai collected himself and pulled her close in so he could speak softly, "but its the middle of the night."

Caoimhe giggled and shuffled in closer to him, "I know. I couldn't sleep." She looked over her shoulder at tent flap where she had come in. "Come on," she pulled on his arm. "Lets go someplace we don't have to whisper."

They crawled out into the night air. the stars where shining and the crickets chirped.

"You should go back," Cai said. "I don't want you to be in trouble."

Caoimhe rubbed her hands on her thighs and smiled at the grass. "I will, I promise," she said. She looked at him, "I don't like you not being home."

Cai sighed. "Me either," he admitted. "But, this is...this is who we are, isn't it?"

Caoimhe didn't answer right away. She stared up at the sky.

"I suppose," she finally said. She looked at him, "Do you...do you...want to be a knight?"

It was Cai's turn to be pensive. "Yes," he finally said.

They sat in silence for a while.

"It'll be alright, Caoimhe," he said, answering a question she didn't ask. "It'll be fine."

And they sat alone together in the moonlight.


	4. Chapter 4

Their cheeks were red from from the effort of running, but they kept on over the uneven terrain. The girl was smiling as she leaped over bushes and ravines. Her brother's face was set in a terrible frown. He grit his teeth and pushed harder, his sister just ahead of him. If she was concerned about his falling behind, she didn't show it. Caoimhe could run forever.

Kalyn was older, better trained, a knight initiate. He was used to running with armor and weapons and in adverse conditions, but try as he might, he could not catch Caoimhe. The race hadn't been his idea, their older brothers, riding easily ahead of them, had laid a bet that she could beat him. His pride was at stake, as well as a month of chores. Even so, he did not move over the landscape like his little sister. He could hear Justyn and Tyrin laughing and cheering and what should have been a playful competition started to turn into a personal affront. He thought he saw his chance when Caoimhe suddenly veered wide up a small hill. He surged ahead. Without warning, the ground went soft under him and his ankle turned. He let out an angry cry as he tumbled over and landed on his back. He lay there, angry, listening to his brother's hawk striders ride closer.

"Is he all right?" he heard Justyn ask. Kalyn opened his eyes.

"He's fine," Caoimhe said. She was leaning over him, smiling, her cheerful expression making him feel even more foolish for being upset.

"I'm not fine," he grumbled. He pushed himself up on his elbows only to sink into the damp mossy ground.

Caoimhe's expression changed to one of concern. "No?" she asked. Justin and Tyrin looked at each other and hastily dismounted. "Let me help you," his sister offered, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a sitting position.

Kalyn bat her hands away. "I don't need help," he insisted.

Caoimhe stepped back and looked at Justyn. "I'm sorry, Kalyn," she said quietly.

Justyn smiled at Caoimhe. "Don't worry about it, Caoi," he said. He looked at Tyrin and jerked his head in their brother's direction. Tyrin jumped to Kalyn's other side and each took him under the arm.

"No!" he protested, but they pulled him onto his feet anyway. He yelped in pain and fell to the ground again. All three winced on his behalf.

"Well," Justyn said, kneeling down and inspecting his ankle, "Guess we should take you home."

Kalyn groaned. "Great, that's just great."

With a gentleness born of guilt, the elder brothers helped Kalyn onto one of the striders while Caoimhe held the reins to both animals. In uncomfortable silence, punctuated occasionally by Kalyn grunting, they rode home to Tranquillien.

Salina looked at her children with a piercing gaze that only a mother could muster. Justyn was holding up Kalyn, who looked like he napped in a bog. Tyrin muscled both saddles and Caoimhe dragged all of the hunting gear. None of them had any game, and they clustered together with hangdog expressions that told her right away that the injury had been preventable.

She sighed. "Well, get him to a chair," she said, reaching for a jar on an upper shelf.

Her children broke into a chorus of explanations.

"It's my fault, Mother," Justyn said, depositing his brother in the chair.

"I dared him to," Tyrin said on top of him, "We were just having fun."

"I'm sorry, Kalyn," Caoimhe said again.

"It wasn't just Tyrin," Justyn told her, "I did too."

"I'm sorry, Kay."

"It wasn't your fault, Caoi," Tyrin said.

"What did you do?" Salina asked Justyn, "Throw him in a ditch?"

Kalyn sat silent and brooding while his mother inspected his swollen ankle.

"No," Justyn said, looking at his younger brother, "We dared him to race Caoi."

Salina looked at Justyn with a sigh and a small frown. She looked at Kalyn, his arms crossed, staring out the door on the opposite side of the room, and she looked at Caoimhe, who was biting her lip and stealing glances at Kalyn as she put away their gear. She looked back at Justyn.

"Caoimhe, please go get me some bandages," she said.

"Yes, Mother," Caoimhe said and slid gratefully out of the room.

"Tyrin, please get me a wash rag and a clean basin of water."

Tyrin looked at Justyn, who shrugged.

"Now, Tyrin," Salina said.

"Yes, Mother," and he went out the opposite door.

Salina looked at the two remaining boys. "Kalyn," she said. "What happened?"

"They dared me to a race with Caoi," he said flatly.

"They? All three?"

"No," he said.

"Then don't blame your sister," she looked at Justyn. "You dared him?"

"I realize it was a bad idea," he said.

"Then you should be apologizing," she said.

Justyn nodded and sighed. "I am sorry, Kay."

There was silence.

Salina looked at Kalyn. "Justyn," she said, "Would you please take that bowl and some bread to Cai?"

Justyn realized he was being dismissed and nodded.

Salina waited till Justin was out of earshot. She looked at Kalyn.

"You, son," she admonished, "need to grow thicker skin."

She saw him let his shoulders drop.

"Are you upset with your brothers, your sister, or yourself?" she asked.

Kay let out a deep breath. "She's so small!" he said, "How can I not beat her?"

Salina was relieved to hear him admit his anger.

"You think you should be faster?" she asked.

"Yes!" he said, as if that should have been obvious.

"Then you are angry at yourself," she said, as if that should have been obvious.

Kalyn sat quietly while she inspected the injury. "You are brilliant at many things, Kay," she said gently. "Do not feel you need to be brilliant at all things. And do not begrudge your sister for what she does well."

Kalyn realized he had been out argued by his mother. "Yes Mother," he said quietly.

"And if your brothers bet on your speed, make them run the race," she smile.

Kalyn smiled in spite of himself. "Yes, mother," he said.  
.

Justyn took the tray up the curved steps to the second level of their home where five beds filled the loft. Four of them were neatly made, but one was rumpled. Rumpled but empty. Cai guiltily hobbled from the window back to his bed, his splinted leg knocking onto the floor.

"Sorry," he said, flopping onto his bed and swinging his leg back up onto the prop his mother had made.

Justyn laughed, "You don't have to apologize to me," he said, putting the tray down on the small table between the beds. "I completely understand."

Cai dropped his head back on the pillows. "It isn't fair," he said.

His brother sat down on the edge of the bed. "Relax," he said, "You'll be up in no time."

Cai sighed, "But you and Tyrin will be gone by then."

Justyn smiled, "You act as if you never see us. You'll be a squire in a year, then you'll be sick of seeing us.". He smacked his brother on his uninjured leg. "Let Mother baby you while she can."

Cai groaned, "You'd think I was a baby, the way she acts."

"Well you may have company," Justyn grinned.

"What do you mean?" Cai lifted his head from his exaggerated misery.

"Kalyn is downstairs now," Justyn smiled, "He fell in a footrace with Caoimhe. His ankle is the size of a melon."

Cai seemed cheered, at least his broken leg had been well earned. "Eat your soup," Justyn said, standing. Cai nodded, in better spirits than his brother had found him.

Justyn waited in the arched doorway of the kitchen and watched his mother slather some thick paste from the jar onto Kalyn's ankle and then wrap it in the bandages Caoimhe had brought back from the storeroom. She sat at the table, watching their mother, trying to figure out how to do it so the next time someone turned an ankle, she could dress it in the field. Kalyn did not look appreciative of the attention. Tyrin had gone to empty the basin and was hovering near the exit to the yard, as if he might need to make a break for it at any moment. Kay looked at Caoimhe.

"Why'd you turn up the hill, anyway?" he asked.

Caoimhe looked a little surprised. "Didn't you see the moss?" she asked. "There was a creek just to the right." She looked at the table, a little guilty, "I didn't think the ground would be too solid."

Tyrin laughed out loud, which drew a gaze of death from Kalyn. Tyrin shrugged an apology. "She knows the ground," he laughed.

Kalyn wished he could get up and storm off, but he was stuck in the chair until his mother gave him permission to stand. "Well," he said, crossing his arms defensively, "if all I did was run around like a yard chicken all day, I'd know the ground too. Some of us have real work to do." He looked at Caoimhe, suddenly aware that while he had intended to play witty with his brother, his sister was the one he had insulted. She slid backward away from the table, trying to hide the hurt expression on her face.

"Kay," Justyn started.

"Kalyn," his mother snapped.

"Lights sake, Kay, what's wrong with you?" Tyrin said, turning to follow Caiomhe out into the yard. "It's a sprained ankle, you ass," and as a parting shot he added, "and it was your own fault."

Kay sat in silence.

Salina finished her bandaging and glared at her son disapprovingly but left him at the table without saying another word. Obviously their previous conversation had not yet sunk in. She was wiping the excess salve from her hands as she passed Justyn.

"Talk to him," she said quietly as she passed. It was not a request. Justyn sighed and crossed to the table. He picked up a persimmon from the bowl in the center and a knife from his pocket. He cut a slice and offered it to Kalyn. Kalyn looked at it for second, considering whether to take the peace offering or not. He reached across the table and took it between his fingers.

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Justyn nodded. He popped a piece in his own mouth and pointed at Kay's ankle with the knife. "Did the salve help?" he asked through the fruit.

Kalyn held his hand out for a second slice and nodded. "It's supposed to help with the pain and the bruising," he said. "At least that's what Mother said."

"Well, she should know," Justyn said, slightly put off by Kay's doubting her word. He shook his head. "I really am sorry. If I'd known you'd get hurt..." he trailed off. "Or take it so seriously..."

Kalyn stiffened slightly but then sighed and reached for a third piece of fruit. "It's...it's alright," he finally admitted. "I just got a little carried away."

Justyn nodded. He found himself at a loss for what to say. Dahanan was usually the inspirational one, in father's absence. He wanted to tell Kalyn that he just needed to stop being such a whiny prick and to get his bow and go find some dinner, but he felt that was not what their mother had intended when she said, "Talk to him."

"So is..something else bothering you?" he ventured.

Kalyn looked sort of surprised, "No..no, not really." He paused, "It's just with you and Tyrin gone, there's just...there's just more to do."

Justyn smiled, "Hard to be the man of the house, eh?"

"Yes!" Kalyn exclaimed, "Its so hard! and to be a squire as well? It's impossible! I am three nights in Silvermoon and then I ride home and there is an impossible list of work to do here."

Justyn nodded, smiling. "I know. It wasn't all that long ago I was in your shoes. Well, Tyrin and I."

"That's just it, though," Kay leaned in, "Father was still at home then and there were still five of us." He slumped back in the chair, "Now it's just me and Cai and Caoimhe."

"That's true," Justyn said slowly, "But they are older now, and you don't have to hunt for six people, or cook for six people or clean up after six people. There are only four of you, on a regular basis, and Cai and Caoimhe seem to be just fine on the days that you are not here."

Kay rolled his eyes. "Those two, thick as thieves," he said.

Justyn grinned. "I remember when it was 'Those three, thick as thieves'."

Kalyn looked at him and blushed slightly. "Yeah, well," he grabbed his own persimmon from the bowl. "I'm older now."

Justyn nodded, his smile fading a little. "I'm just saying, you three where close. I guess I just figured you'd be a little more understanding."

Kalyn glared at Justyn. "There isn't time for understanding, or hadn't you noticed? Half the Order is gone to battle."

Justyn looked at his brother with a very grave expression, "Yes, Kalyn," he said, "I am well aware of where my comrades are."

A look of slight embarrassment crossed Kalyn's face. "And Kay," he said, just as gravely, "There is always time for understanding."

"You sound like father," Tyrin said from the door. The seated brothers both turned to look at him.

Justyn's expression quickly changed and he smiled at Tyrin. "Which one of us?"

"Both of you, actually," Tyrin said, retrieving two bows from their spots on the wall.

"What are you doing?" Kay asked.

"Caoi and I are going to go find dinner," he said lightly. "I didn't come home to eat fruit and bread."

"I'll join you," Justyn said standing.

"No, you stay here and tend the invalids," he winked at Kalyn, who resumed fuming quietly. "Consider it a rest."

Justyn sat back down, leaned back and smiled, "Fine by me. See Kay? Not so bad after all."

Tyrin and Caoimhe sprinted through Eversong woods with an effortlessness that the Rangers would envy. Tyrin was not expecting to find anything large, it was too late in the day, but even a small game stew would do for the six of them. Caoimhe was just happy to be out. It would have been nice if Cai had been able to come, but hunting with Tyrin was nice too.

"You know," Tyrin said when they stopped for a drink, "Kalyn really isn't mad at you."

Caoimhe inspected the mouth of the water skin. "I know," she said unconvincingly.

"He just wants to be," Tyrin thought of how to phrase what he felt was his younger brother's real problem. "He just wants to be out with the rest of us. He want to be a knight already."

Caoimhe's face shot up, "Why? I mean, why does he want to leave so badly? I listen to Father and Daan when they come home and...and I think that...maybe...maybe I don't want to go."

Tyrin's face quirked, "Go? Go where, Caoi? You don't have to go anywhere."

"I'll be a page next year," Caoimhe said. "Or the year after."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Caoimhe," Tyrin waved off her concern, "Things will be back to normal by then, don't worry. Everyone will be home and things will be fine." It was the kind of lie he thought he could tell, but felt guilty about it anyway.

Caoimhe strung her bow and set an arrow. "That's not what Father says."

Tyrin looked surprised. "Oh?"

She tilted her head and looked at him. "I'm the youngest, Ty, not the baby," she spied something in a tree on the hill across from them. "Think I can hit that?" she asked.

"Hit what?" he looked, but she had already let loose the arrow. There was a squeak and a rustling as the squirrel fell to the ground.

Caoimhe jumped with excitement and dashed off toward her kill.

"That was pretty good," Tyrin admitted as he followed her. Then to himself, "Wonder if I can do that."

They spent the next few hours stalking squirrels and taking turns trying to shoot them from varied distances until they had what they felt was enough of a collection to make a large enough stew to feed the family.

"We'd better get back," Caoimhe said, "It'll take a little time to clean these up."

Tyrin grinned. "Oh no, Caoi," he said, "We did the hunting." He clapped his hand on her shoulder, "THEY get to skin."

The triumphant hunters returned to cheers from at least one appreciative recipient who bowed to their superior skills and vowed to ply his skinning knife on their behalf. Kalyn rolled his eyes and limped outside to help Justyn skin and gut the game.

"Kay, have a sense of humor," he insisted as they left the kitchen.

"Good to see his mood improved," Tyrin said to his mother when they left. He picked up a tuber and started to peel.

"You're joking, yes?" she asked.

"I meant Justyn," he grinned.

"Of course you did," Salina smiled. She watched him peel for a moment then said, "I thought the hunters returned to the hearth and then slept."

Tyrin smiled at the tuber and shrugged.

"Cai!" Caoimhe jumped on her bed from the top of the loft steps, "Wake up!"

Cai sat up suddenly, "I'm awake!" He mumbled.

"Ty and me were hunting," she flopped onto her back and kicked off her boots. "I wish you could have come. I shot five squirrels! And we had so much fun!"

Cai rubbed his eyes. "That's just not fair," he groaned. "I'm going to be stuck up here forever."

"Don't be silly," his sister said, "Why don't you come down and help skin?"

"Do you think Mother will let me?" he asked, sceptical.

"Of course, she will," Caoimhe said, "I'll help you down." She stood at the side of the bed and extended her arms to assist. Cai slid to the edge and stood on his good leg. Leaning on Caoimhe, he hopped to the stairs and down.

"You're the perfect size for this," he said.

Caoimhe laughed. Salina looked up as she heard the two of them coming to the kitchen. "I don't believe I cleared you to be this mobile, Cai," she admonished.

"Mother," he said, "I am perfectly capable of helping."

She leaned on the counter and put one hand on her hip.

"Are you the nurse then?" she asked.

"Well...no," he stammered, "But I," he looked around for some support. Tyrin waved a tuber in his direction. Cai grasped on it, "I can sit and help peel." He thought it rather odd that he suddenly sounded excited to help peel tubers and immediately assumed it would come back to haunt him in the near future, but at this point anything was better than being in bed. He nudged Caoimhe toward the table.

"Besides, you don't want him up there all by himself when we are all down here," Caoimhe said, reasonably. Salina rolled her eyes and returned to her peeling.

"Caoimhe put his leg up and get him a blanket."

"Mother!" he moaned, but he did not argue when Caoimhe did as she was asked.

It was early in the morning, before the sun came up, when Caoimhe came down to the kitchen to investigate the noise she heard.  
Justyn was packing his bag and lacing his boots. He looked up at her and smiled. "Morning Caoi."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well," he said, a little sheepishly, "We were not exactly the most responsible hunters yesterday, except you and Ty," he smiled, "but Mother was expecting us to bring home a little more than one meal's worth, I'm afraid."

"So we're going hunting again?" she said excitedly.

"So I'm going hunting," he said.

"Aw, Justyn," she said, "I want to come with you. I'm an excellent shot."

He nodded, "So I hear," he looked outside, he thought about it for a moment before giving in. "Alright, Caoimhe, get dressed and make it quick."

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

"Don't wake anyone," he whispered loudly.

Less than fifteen minutes after, Caoimhe was dressed and equipped and ready to go out again, for the third time in two days. Justyn left a note informing the house where they had gone and the two set out on Justyn's strider toward the wooded hills to the east. The edges of the horizon were just turning the palest blue and violet through the trees. Caoimhe turned in the saddle to watch it rise. Justyn rode up a hill, where the view was better, and turned the strider around. The sun started to hit the tops of the emerald trees, throwing green and gold highlights over the woods. They could see just the tops of the red and white spires of Tranquillien and far far off in the distance the wide expanse of the sea.

"Quite a view, isn't it?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Ready to get to work?" Again she nodded.

They both dismounted, relieved the strider of their hunting gear and had a quick snack of dried fruit. He let the strider peck around the small hill while he scouted for a direction to start.

Caoimhe followed him.

"We should go down the hill," she said over his shoulder, pointing, "to the south east."

He turned on his knee to look at her, his eyebrow quirked in mock suspicion. "And why do you say that?"

She squinted into the still distance, "Because there are clearings near the water that way. Grazers like that kind of place in the morning. We are looking for grazers, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are," he said standing, impressed with her assessment, "well, that or a good sized bear. I don't think I have the energy for a lynx."

"Bear?" she squeaked.

He laughed as he started to walk down the hill. "What's wrong, Mighty Caoi? You can take a bear, can't you?"

She eyed the woods around them as they descended the hill. "I try to avoid the bears, Justyn," she looked at him when he chuckled and hastily added, "I'm not afraid of them, I just rather...leave them alone. I mean, I'm fast, but so are the bears, and they climb trees too..."

"Caoi, Caoi," he said, "Relax. I'm with you, we don't need to shoot a bear." She sighed, obviously relieved. They walked along into the denser part of the foot hills in for a while. Caoimhe kept turning to look up the hill.

"What about your strider?" she asked.

"He's fine, he'll stay there till I come back," he said, unconcerned.

"What if a lynx tried to eat him?" she asked.

"Then he'll run home," he said. "He's very well trained."

"Will he run home or will he run all the way to Silvermoon?" she asked. "That's much father. Do you think he could fight off a lynx? He's much bigger, and he has wicked talons," she crouched in a defensive stance and jumped ahead of him, attacking an imaginary foe with her impromptu claws, "but lynx are fast and very tenacious. Who do you think would win?"

"Well, my strider, I hope," he said, continuing on. "You ask a lot of questions, Caoi, anyone every tell you that?"

Caoimhe stopped her imagined battle with the lynx and followed behind him, "Sorry, Justyn," she said quietly.

"I didn't say it was a bad trait, Caoi," he said, "don't apologise for it."

"Oh," she said more brightly. "yes, the Knights and Priests tell me that all the time. 'You ask an awful lot of questions, Miss Onoir'." she imitated the ranking paladin in Tranquillien so effectively, Justyn laughed out loud. Caoimhe smiled, encouraged, "'Your brothers are much more respectful of their elders'. I guess they don't know you very well."

Justyn laughed even harder at the observation. "No, I suppose not. Well, maybe Kay," he sighed and wiped his eyes. "We shouldn't be so loud, we'll scare off the game."

Caoimhe waved her hand, "No, they are much farther ahead, and we are down wind, at the moment."

Justyn went from amused to surprised. "Caoi," he said, "You know a great deal about hunting, who taught you?"

Caoimhe shrugged, "Cai mostly. But mostly it's just common sense."

"Cai?" he asked.

"Well, yes," she said, "before he became a page, he and I would come out to the woods all the time. Not usually this far, I have only just started coming out this far in the past few months."

"What alone?" now he seemed somewhat dismayed.

She tilted her head and looked at him, "Well of course. Father and Dahanan are away, you and Tyrin are mostly away, Kalyn is mostly in Silvermoon, Cai and Mother are in Tranquillien," she shrugged, "I feed the chickens and water the garden and wash the clothes and then what is there to do?" She smiled at him, "so I take very long walks."

"Does mother know?" he asked.

She shrugged, then a look of horror came over her face, "You're not going to tell her are you? She wouldn't make me stop would she?"

Justyn was very quiet for a long time, not because he wanted to torture his sister, but because he felt something of a dilemma. He looked down at her small pleading face and sighed.

"Why don't we talk about it later?" he suggested. Her shoulders slumped and she nodded gloomily at the ground. "Now why that face?"

"Later never means anything good," she said to the grass.

He laughed again, "I suppose you're right, it never did for me either," he messed her strawberry blond hair, "Tell you what, we will REALLY talk about it after we get our grazer. You and me, and you can tell me why you don't think telling her is a good idea, and I'll tell you why I think she needs to know. And then we'll come to a decision together and I promise you, I will abide by it."

She looked up at him with a timid smile. "All right, Justyn."

He nodded their accord, "Alright then. Now, lead on. Find me a buck."

She saluted, "Yes sir!"

Suddenly, and to him rather startlingly, the fidgety little girl disappeared. She turned in the direction they had been heading on the foot path, took a deep breath, listened to the quiet around them and on incredibly soft feet, shot off the path south into the woods. She ran like an animal, her shoulders down, slightly crouched and her footing was remarkably solid. He had a hard time keeping up and staying quiet at the same time.

She slowed as the foot hills leveled and he caught up with her at the tree line. She had come quite farther south than he had anticipated, but there was a large clearing, shining with morning dew. A broad river ran through the center, and on the other side, he could make out a small herd of grazers lazily eating near the trees. She was crouched behind tree, her bow in hand. She smiled at him, quite pleased with herself.

He stared for a moment at the cluster in disbelief. The sun was just over the trees, they had been out for maybe a few hours? It was a tremendous stroke of fortune. He shook his ahead, leaving the disbelief and accepting the blessing, he leaned in behind her.

"Quite a find, Caoi," he said. "too bad we'll have to swim."

Caimhe perked her ears, "oh I doubt it," she said, "there has to be a shallow somewhere close, there are tracks on this side of the river."

Justyn stared at the herd on the other side of the river and assumed she must have a point. Or there were other animals on this side, either way, they had to move quickly or the animals would be gone, left for the shade and shelter of the woods. He looked at his sister and nodded. Excited, but in complete control, she skirted up stream. The ford wasn't far, a rocky shallow with a solid bottom. The broken reeds and nibbled grasses confirmed that the herd crossed here, if not today, then regularly. The hunters crept across and into the grasses on the other side. Neither minded the cold water half way up to their knees. Caoimhe didn't stop to wait for her brother, she crouched into the grasses and started moving toward the herd. Justyn was amazed as she all but disappeared ahead of him. They stayed close to the water until the herd came into closer sight. She watched carefully, trying to select the best target. There where no bucks, but a doe separated itself from the group toward the water to drink. Justyn had slid next to Caoimhe. She looked at him and pointed with the arrow in her bow. He nodded and readied his shot. She rose just slightly and as the grazers raised their heads in near unison to investigate the rustling, she let the arrow fly. Justyn's shot followed it up. At the first bow twang, the herd jumped for the woods. Caoimhe's shot landed in the side of the gracefully curved neck of the doe, Justyn's hitting a second after in the throat as the startled animal turned. Caoimhe had a third arrow in its rib as it started to run, a frown on her face as she started to chase it down. The herd was gone, but the doe made it to the tree line before it stumbled, fell, and bellowed miserably. The neck shots had been quite solid and it would bleed out before too long, but Coimhe pulled her knife out and approached it slowly where it lay.

"Let me, Caoi," Justyn whispered to her.

"I can do it," she said defensively.

"I've got a better arm for it," he said reasonably. She wasn't exactly disappointed at not having to slit the animal's throat and end its suffering, so she sat back and let Justyn finish the kill. "Not bad, Caoi," he sighed. "Now all we have to do is get it home." He laughed. "It's a good thing you came along."

Caoimhe smiled as Justyn started to unpack a large canvas roll from his pack. He pulled out a rope and started looking for a likely tree.

"I could go and get your strider, Justyn," Caoimhe suggested. "Then we could take it home more easily."

"That is an excellent notion, Caoi," he said. "It shouldn't take too long, I'll be back...," she tried to gauge the time, "soon," she said. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"All right," he smiled at her, then furrowed his brow in mock parental disapproval, "but you be careful out there alone in the woods."

Caoimhe giggled. "I'll be fine."

He watched her take off over the field and across the river.

Justyn had the doe hung and partly gutted, the useful organs laid out on the canvas, when he heard the striders breaking through the brush on the opposite side of the river. He stood to see better, more curious than concerned that there should be more than one. He saw Caoimhe atop his own mount, waving cheerfully to him. He did not recognize the tall slender female elf who rode next to her on a much larger strider. He stepped out to greet them.

"I know Caoimhe makes friends easily," he said as they rode up, "but I was unaware she could find them in such unusual places."

"Justyn!" Caoimhe jumped off the mount and led the strider to a tree before running back to introduce him. "Justyn, this is Adenydd," she indicated the still mounted elf. "Adenydd, this is my brother Justyn." She came to his side and looked at the two of them, expectantly.

"Good afternoon, miss," Justyn said, bowing deeply. "I'd offer you an assist off your mount, but..." he held up his bloodied hands. "if you wish to stay up there a moment, I will do the honorable..." Adenydd had already swung her leg over and slid off her saddle. She pulled off the riding gloves she wore and tucked them into her saddle bag. "Or...or not." Justyn said looking down at Caoimhe and shrugging.

Caoimhe had a huge beaming smile on her face. "Justyn, there is a camp north of here on the river. Did you know that?"  
Justyn shook his head, "No, I did not." He looked at Adenydd. "My apologies, Miss Adenydd," he said, his demeanor suddenly more formal. "I hope we are not trespassing on anyone's hunting grounds."

"You are not," she said pleasantly, but shortly. She indicated Caoimhe, "We saw you pass this morning, when the girl came running back alone, we feared something was amiss." She smiled at Caoimhe. "Your sister assured us nothing was wrong, but it seems you might want some help?"

Justyn wasn't sure he really needed the help, he had field dressed game before, and alone.

"We?" he asked. "Caoimhe, go start on the grazer will you?" he handed her his knife. She saluted him, smiled at Adenydd, who smiled back, and set to her task. Justyn looked again at Adenydd. "You said 'we'?"

"Yes", she smiled. "I am part of the Farstrider camp upriver."

"Ah," Justyn nodded. He smiled awkwardly, "That is how we failed to notice you."

"Hardly your fault, paladin," she said with a pleased grin.

Justyn looked all at once surprised, pleased and slightly annoyed. "Paladin? Oh, not yet, miss," he said dryly. "But so kind of you to assume so."

She straightened and sniffed a little, "Oh. Well, we assume all the Onoir are in the Order."

Justyn caught her off guard by laughing outright. "Well", he said suddenly relaxing and smiling at her genuinely, "It is a fair assumption. Are or will be, yes?"

Her face relaxed and she grinned at him, "That seems to be the way of your house."

Justyn sighed and resisted the urge to rub the back of his neck. He wiped his hands on a cloth tucked into his belt. "Please, Miss Adenydd, won't you join us?"

"Thank you, Master Onoir," she said.

"Justyn, please."

"Thank you Justyn," she looked at the carcass. "How may I help?"

The rest of the morning they worked on the carcass. It had been his intention to lighten the load by gutting the carcass and take it back home to dress and butcher completely, but with two striders and the extra help, they made a more complete job of it. They washed in the river and had a small lunch.

"Everything has a use, Caoimhe," Adenydd told her as they worked. "It is always best to salvage everything and give what can be used to those who can use it best."

"That begs the question," Justyn said looking at the as yet undivided doe, "It would be unthinkable not to offer you a part of the kill."

She stood and inspected the doe. "Well," she said, "we really have no urgent need of the meat right now."

Justyn bristled slightly, thinking he caught a hint of condensation in her tone, but dismissed it as an unnecessary concern.

"I would be indebted to you should I be able to take the hide," she finally decided.

Justyn nodded enthusiastically, happy he would not have to part with the meat, "Done."

Adenydd smiled. Justyn thought it softened her otherwise severe features and he blushed slightly.

"Excellent," she said, not noticing, "Our camp is much closer than Tranquillien. Why don't we take it there and finish?"

"I do thank you for the offer, but I should get Caoimhe and the carcass home." He saw her face start to turn back to its more severe, and he presumed more habitual, expression, "But," he offered, "my brothers and I can make quick work of this. I will bring you the hide as soon as we are finished."

She considered. "Do you think you can find us?" she asked with a smile.

"I can!" Caoimhe jumped up before Justyn had time to absorb the good natured insult.

"Well, then," she smiled at Caoimhe. "We'll have to see about that." Then she turned back to Justyn. "That seems fine. I'll keep an eye out for you just in case."

"I'm sure that would be appreciated," Justyn said diplomaticly.

They packed up their tools and the doe on Justyn's strider and before the sun had tipped to far in the sky, they started home. Justyn led his mount and Caoimhe rode with Adenydd atop her huge mount, talking and asking the ranger question after question all the way to Tranquillien.

"I shall see you in a few days then?" she asked as she helped Caoimhe down. Justyn bowed, "In a few days, yes, if not sooner."

"Travel safe, then," she said nodding.

"Light's blessings upon you, miss" he bowed, and she turned her mount and rode back into the hills.

Justyn watched her, still unsure of his impression.

"Justyn," Caoimhe said.

He continued to watch the strider ride off. he thought he saw her turn around to look at them, but he wasn't sure.

"Justyn, what are you waiting for?" Caoimhe followed his line of sight and grinned. "She's pretty."

Justyn caught himself and shrugged. "Do you think so?" he grinned at her. "I don't know. Maybe. Lets go home."


	5. Chapter 5

"I told you I could find it," Caoimhe pronounced triumphantly as the trees gave way to the clearing around the Farstrider's Enclave.

"This isn't a camp," Tyrin said in amazement, "It's a complex."

"We don't always sleep in tents," a voice from behind him said, dripping with disapproval.

The small cluster of knights turned en mass.

"Adynned!" Caoimhe slid off Tyrin's saddle and strode with confidence to the Ranger. "See? I told you I'd remember."

The stoic Ranger nodded, but her eyes were on Justyn.

"I wasn't aware you would be bringing your entire clan," she said.

"This isn't the entire clan," he said smiling as he dismounted. "This is only half."

Adynned's eyebrow went up, but otherwise her face remained set, her hands on her hips.

"I brought your hide," Justyn extended the offering.

"I assumed," she said shortly. She glanced at Tyrin, who sat leaning forward in his saddle, smiling at his brother with a lopsided grin. "Another knight? If I did not know any better, I would think it an invasion." She took the wrapped hide and inspected it with a frown.

"Excepting, of course, that we are all on the same side," he smiled. "Miss Adynned, Farstrider of Silvermoon, my brother Tyrin, Protector of the Light," Justyn made a sweeping gesture to indicate his brother. "And you remember Caoimhe?"

Tyrin dismounted and bowed deeply. "Miss," he said in his most official voice. "That was quite an introduction," Tyrin said as he rose.

"Do you approve?" Justyn asked, "I thought it might be overdoing it."

"Not at all," Tyrin said as he took off his gloves, "I rather like that, 'Protector of the Light', sounds a bit aggressive, though, perhaps 'Defender'?"

Caoimhe giggled at her brother's exchange, Adynned frowned and shook her head.

"Are they always like this?" she looked down at Caoimhe, who nodded and smiled. Adynned cracked a slight grin in spite of herself.

"well, I thank you for the skin," she said slightly over loud, interrupting the exchange. Both brother's stopped and turned to her. "If you would excuse me..."

A look of slight dismay came over Justyn's face. "Oh but wait," he said, all jest put aside. He stepped hastily forward to prevent her from walking away. "We brought you something else."

Adynned stopped her half turn and looked at the three of them from over her shoulder. Justyn leaped to his saddle bag and produced a small wrapped package. Tyrin untied a basket and Caoimhe retrieved a blanket. They stood before her, picnic at the ready. Adynned looked at the hide she carried, then at the three Onoir. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Alright," she said, turning and heading toward the center of the enclave. "Follow me, you can rest your horses and we will have a small lunch." Tyrin cheered silently behind her back while Caoimhe ran enthusiastically to follow. Justyn exhaled heavily his relief.

They walked past a few small outbuildings and an open area for the animals. They garnered a few odd looks, especially as they led their chargers. The Farstriders were more apt to ride mounts that did well and quietly over the forest terrain. Tyrin nodded and smiled, if slightly self consciously, at the rangers as they passed. Caoimhe drank in every detail, not bothering to hide her excitement at the opportunity to explore a new place, especially a place with such a reputation as the Farstrider enclave. Justyn kept pace with Adynned, trying to ask intelligent questions and working to put a smile on her rigid features.

The central point of the activity was a slender tower that rose above the trees and sat next to the rising terrain of the foothills. Like most of the Quel'dori structures, it was graceful and lovely, but a stark contrast to the surrounding forests.

Justyn stared up at the tower and the rangers who stood watch atop.

"How do you manage to stay secluded with that?" he asked, half to himself.

Adynned smiled at his back and gave a small satisfied shrug. "It isn't about being hidden," she said, "Besides, you didn't find us."

"I did!" Caoimhe said cheerfully from her brother's hip.

Justyn and Adynned both smiled.

"Well," Tyrin said awkwardly observing the two, "where shall we have lunch?"

Adynned led them to a shaded spot behind the tower. The grass was soft and the breeze that wrapped around the curved of the building cooled them pleasantly.

"We made the wine," Justyn explained as he poured.

"Mother made the wine," Caoimhe corrected him, matter of factly.

Justyn smiled at her sideways, "Yes," he said slowly, "Mother made the wine. We make it at home."

"We pick the berries and wash them and help crush them," Caoimhe started to explain, sitting on her knees next to the ranger, who nodded and smiled politely. "There are paths near our home lined with berry bushes. Are there berry bushes here too?"

"Caoimhe," Tyrin interrupted holding up a hunk of cheese and a loaf of bread. "I seem to have left the bread knife in my saddle bag."

"You're wearing a knife, Ty," she said pointing at his belt.

"I can't cut the bread with THAT, knife, Caoi," he said stiffly.

"Why not?"

"Caoimhe, come with me to get the BETTER knife, will you please?" Tyrin said, exasperated.

Justyn looked heavenward, mild mortification evident on his face. Adynned put her hand to her mouth to hide a small smile that had crept over her face.

"Caoimhe," Adynned offered, "Would you do me the favor of taking the skin to our tanner? She is just on the front side of the tower, you can go right through, if you'd like. Just tell them I sent you."

Caoimhe's eyes lit up and she jumped to her feet. She bowed hastily to Adynned as she took the hide, beamed at Justyn and ran around toward the open arch they had passed on their way to the picnic spot.

Tyrin crossed his arms and looked after her, a smile on his face as well. He turned back to Justyn.

"What?" he said when his brother just stared at him blankly.

"How about that knife?" Justyn asked, his voice flat.

"Kni...? Oh, the bread knife," he laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He bowed slightly to Adynned. "I'll be back," and he started walking and whistling at a slow pace the long way around the tower.

Justyn shook his head and dropped his forehead into his palm.

"I, uhm, apologize...for that," he said.

Adynned smiled and took a glass of wine. "Not at all," she said smoothly. "They are quite entertaining."

Justyn took a long drink himself, "I am relieved you think so."

Adynned actually laughed. "Is there a reason for this?" she asked him.

"Well," Justyn started, "Caoimhe insisted that she could find your camp, as she had seen it when you met, and Tyrin was just upset that I had left behind the last time so..."

Adynned was shaking her head, "No, for the picnic."

"Oh, for that," Justyn shifted his seat. "Only to thank you." Suddenly his use of the word 'only' seemed to trivialize his intent. "I mean, I wanted to properly thank you. For the help. With the doe."

She nodded, looking at him expectantly.

"And.." he tried to think of more to say, "and for being so patient."

She continued to nod and smile.

"And," he was at a loss. "And Caoimhe was quite taken with you."

Adynned blinked in surprise. "Your sister was quite taken with me?"

Justyn gulped his wine, "Oh, yes, she thought you were quite impressive. Talked about you all the way home. Told our brothers how impressive you looked on the strider. She was..." he looked at her incredulous expression, "she was very impressed."

"Your sister," she said in an expressionless tone.

"Yes," he said quietly, realizing he had made some kind of mistake, but wasn't sure what or how to correct it. "And," he went on, at the risk of making it worse, "and I was hoping to...to thank you again as well."

She might have been upset, except for the slight blush that came over him. She softened her stare and had another sip of wine.

They sat in silence for a moment before Adynned said, "Your mother makes a lovely wine."

"Oh thank the Light. I mean thank you," he said, smiling at her. "Thank you."

She smiled back.

* * *

Tyrin ignored the odd stares he got as he strolled back toward the chargers. he nodded and smiled and whistled a little as he looked around. No one stopped him, but a few less than friendly glares where tossed at his back.

"Ungrateful," he heard someone say.

He whipped around toward the voice.

"I beg your pardon," he said to the shadow. "Kay? what are you doing here?"

His younger brother stepped out of the treeline, tucking his riding gloves into his belt and brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"And what the hell do you mean by ungrateful?" Ty demanded. Their conversations had been tense for the past week, ever since the foot race.

Kalyn's eyes swept over the enclave. "Don't you see the way they look at us? Ungrateful," he said in a low voice.

Tyrin looked at his brother in disgusted disbelief before he said, "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard you say." He continued walking as if no one had stepped out across his path.

Kalyn followed him. 'You disagree?"

"Obviously," Tyrin huffed. "You've been spending too much time with the less educated aspects of our ranks. You're starting to sound like the dafts."

His brother looked shocked. "They aren't dafts," he said, his defensiveness giving away his lingering immaturity, "They are knights, just like you, and Justyn, and Dahanan." Tyrin shook his head as he started fumbling in his saddlebag. "Just like Father."

Tyrin spun on his brother, bread knife in hand. "Father," he said pointedly, "Has more respect for the Order than to speak that way about those we protect." He realized he was making his gestures with the serrated blade, sighed, and wrapped it in a cloth before giving Kalyn one last disgusted look and heading back toward the picnic.

Kalyn heard a hint of doubt in his brother's voice, he followed quickly, "That's just it though isn't it? We protect them and they show their gratitude by, what, seclusion? Secrecy?"

Tyrin stopped walking and turned around.

"Are you serious?" he said, not bothering to keep his voice low. "Remember something, Squire," he twisted the word intentionally, "The Light protects us ALL. You are to be it's champion, not its mouth piece." He looked at Kalyn's open mouth. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Kalyn closed his mouth, sniffed, then replied, "we followed you."

"We?"

"Cai and myself," he said.

"Cai?" Tyrin threw up his arms, "Does mother know?"

"No," he said flatly.

Tyrin grabbed him by the arm and started to march him back toward the chargers.

"Wait," he protested, "she thinks we are on an errand to one of the farmsteads." He pulled his sleeve free, "Does she know you are here?"

Tyrin blinked and squinted at his brother. "Not exactly," he admitted. Kalyn crossed his arms in triumph.

Tyrin's fist clenched and unclenched in his frustration. "Where is Cai?" he asked.

Kalyn gestured to a lean to near the main tower, skins and hides where stretched on racks and Caoimhe and Cai watched in rapt attention as the tanner explained to them her technique. Tyrin turned back to Kay.

"You," he pointed, " stay with them. And keep your mouth shut. You're not going to ruin this."

Kalyn at first looked defiant, but then asked, "Ruin what?"

"Just stay over there," he demanded as he stormed off.

Kalyn realized as his brother stormed off that they had had an audience. Collecting his dignity, he strolled with his chin up toward the tanner.

* * *

"You actually had a bread knife?" Justyn raised his eyebrow's in surprise as his brother rounded the tower in a huff.

He shrugged with mock innocence. Justyn and Adynned had been talking quietly, moved a little closer together on the blanket, when Tyrin interrupted.

"I am going to see to Caoimhe," he lied, grabbing a piece of bread. "I won't be long."

Adynned sighed and started to stand. Justyn rushed to his feet and offered her his arm. she started at him for a moment before she realized he was being sincerely polite.

"I am afraid I cannot ignore my duties much longer," she said. "I have a patrol to prepare for."

"I would," Justyn searched for an appropriate gesture, "I would ride with you, if you wish."

Adynned laughed out rite. "Our patrols use a bit more subtlety and a bit less brawn. The Amani would hear you a mile away." Justyn looked slightly hurt, but then laughed.

"Yes, I suppose they would," he smiled. "Escpecially all three if us."

"Five," coughed Tyrin under his breath.

Justyn cast him a sideways glance.

Tyrin wiggled the fingers on his right hand and mouthed, "Five".

"I...thank you, Miss Adynedd," Justyn bowed, "For the help and the company."

"You're welcome," she said, looking back and forth between them.

She started walking toward the same entrance she had sent Caoimhe.

Justyn looked to Tyrin for an explanation.

"Kay followed, he brought Cai," Tyrin whispered.

Justyn half laughed, half sighed. "Ah well," he shrugged, "What harm could it be."

By the time Justyn and Tyrin had packed the saddles again and come around the side of the tower where the tanner had set her racks, Caoimhe had her sleeves rolled up and was, with constant adjustments and instruction from the tanner, scraping a hide twice her height. Even on her tip toes, she couldn't reach the top. Cai was sitting on the grass, a walking crutch over his lap. Kalyn was watching, but scowled and crossed his arms, fiening disinterest when his brother approached. Justyn caught Adynned watching them from across the yard, she was untying a hawk strider from a hitch. Looking at the lot of them, she shook her head, swung herself expertly into the saddle and trotted off down the southern path.

"Alright, then," Justyn said as he approached, "Thank our hosts and lets go home."

Caoimhe stopped mid stretch, only to be scolded by the tanner who insisted on a solid stroke.

"But Justyn," she said, continuing until she had reached the bottom of the hide, "We've only just arrived."

"Yes, and now I have to see Cai home or the Order will have two less knights," he smiled.

Cai made a face and stood up, letting the crutch fall to the grass. "I'm fine," he insisted, taking a few slightly wobbly steps around the clearing. "See?"

Justyn raised his eyebrow and folded his arms, "I do, how long have you been healed, brother, or is this some blessing the Rangers have that we are not privy to?"

Cai blushed and quickly took up the crutch again, "I told you mother was babying me too much."

"I think you took a bit advantage," Tyrin grinned, dropping to the grass and making no indication that he wanted to go home either.

"Justyn said I should let her baby me while I could," he said.

Justyn grumbled at his own advice, "Well there's that and then there's this," he said giving in and joining Tyrin on the grass. "And to think we took your chores."

Cai just beamed at them.

"Well," Justyn said, "all the same, we should not overstay our welcome. And considering no one actually invited us to stay, that isn't a long space at all."

"The little one can stay," the tanner said with a grin, "I'll keep her busy."

"Sure," Kalyn said from his spot a few paces away, "Until something else catches her attention."

Caoimhe scowled at him.

"She's done more for me today than my own apprentice," the tanner said, more to herself than them. "He should have been back a while ago." She looked at Justyn, "Care to trade?"

Justyn laughed, "No, I'm pretty sure I should return the ones I left with." He jerked a thumb at Kalyn. "You can take that one, if you'd like, he didn't come with me."

Kalyn bristled, but the tanner laughed, "I don't think so, he's already too set in his ways. I don't think I could teach him anything he didn't already think he knew."

Tyrin burst out laughing. "These Farstriders are perceptive," he said over his shoulder to Kay, "It's like she knows you."

Kalyn mumbled something under his breath about what Tyrin could perceive and where he could place it as he stomped off toward their mounts.  
Justyn shook his head.

"Let him stew for a bit," Tyrin said, reading the look on Justyn's face. "He deserves it."

The older brother considered it and the resigned himself. "No," he said with mock weariness, "He might do something like ride home alone and then I'll have to ride Cai home myself." He smacked Cai playfully in the back of his head as he stood. "and I don't know if my charger would be gentle enough for the invalid."

"Hey," Cai protested.

"Lets go," Justyn said, following Kalyn away from the clearing.

The unlikely looking holy quintet had their mounts set and the knights had their charges' securely in the saddle when the riders came in.

Two outrunners on their striders burst through the brush on the lake side of the enclave. Their faces were red and their weapons drawn, their expressions set, grim, and hard as stone. Justyn and Tyrin exchanged knowing glances and as one dismounted. Tyrin handed his reigns to Kalyn, who followed his brothers out of the saddle.

"Take them closer to the tower," he said.

"Where are you going?" Kalyn asked his brother's back as the two followed the outriders at a run.

They did not answer, Kalyn looked at Cai and Caoimhe who sat startled on their brother's chargers. He wiped the stunned look off his own face and as quickly as he could, headed toward the cover of the tower.

Justyn and Tyrin listened on the outside edge of a circle of ranger's.

"It is not a small war party," the runner was saying. "The posts on the other side of the lake have already been overcome."

There was a general mumbling and a short horn blast. The rangers dispersed on unspoken orders, leaving the two knights standing, confused, amidst the activity.  
Justyn looked around, tapped Tyrin to get his attention and pointed to a Ranger, older, greying, but imposing and directing what looked to be the defences forming around the tower. Tyrin nodded and they ran to his position.

"Sir," Justyn interrupted him and bowed deeply. "We are of the Knights of Silvermoon and we offer our swords to the Farstriders in this time of need." Then he hastily added, "Should you need us."

The Ranger blinked at them in surprise, then frowned. "Your offer is appreciated, but the Amani are stealthy fighters. I fear it is not your type of fight."

Justyn looked at Tyrin, then back to the Ranger. "What kind of fight is it?" he asked.

"They attack from the trees, ambushes, retreats, attacks again. Charging at them won't do anything but make a target of you," he started to walk away. "I appreciate your offer, but I don't have time to explain this to you."

Justyn followed him, "Then let us charge them," he said. "They aren't likely to expect two screaming idiots on war horses."

The Ranger turned and regarded them both. "You are serious in this?" he asked.

The brother's nodded.

"Very well, ready yourselves," he said pointing in the direction of a small cache of weapons that had been unlocked.

The brother's saluted and ran to retrieve their chargers.

* * *

"You will be safer here," Tyrin said to Cai and Caoimhe as he mounted his charger.

"Aid with the defence of the tower, Kay, do what they tell you," Justyn said. he could tell by the look on the squire's face he did not want to be left behind. "You represent the Order in our absence," he said, playing his brother's ego a little heavily, but with the best intent. "Do so with honor." he saluted his younger brother, who straitened and saluted back, then turned to march the younger two hastily inside the tower.

"A little thick, don't you think?" Tyrin asked as they rode off.

"Yeah," Justyn admitted, "but it will keep him focused."

The Farstriders in the tower ushered the three up the curved walk to the second level. Every window had archers, birds of prey were perched nearby, agitated by the activity of their masters. Kalyn stopped one of them.

"Where can we help?" he asked.

The ranger looked at him with some impatience.

"Stay away from the windows and stay out of the way," he said shortly. The linx that padded next to him seemed to echo his sentiment.

Kalyn bristled. "But," he started, his sentence cut short by the look of darts the ranger shot at him. Cai and Caoimhe had retreated to a wall next to a rack of pole arms. Defeated and defencive, he joined his siblings.

* * *

Justyn and Tyrin rode out in borrowed and ill fitting armor. The rangers didn't employ shields in general, but they managed to find a few unused bucklers in the cache.  
Tyrin held the buckler in front of his face as they rode forward of the rangers.

"I feel like a giant," he grinned.

Justyn smiled slightly and cast his eyes over the woods. "They disappear effectively, don't they," he said in amazement.

They had left the enclave with a half a dozen Farstriders who, upon hitting the treeline, vanished into the woods like the animals they employed.  
Tyrin took the short spear he had borrowed and started to set his position for a charge.

He nodded, "This is definitely not going to work in the woods."

A rustling at his side was a brief warning before one of the rangers appeared next to him.

"They are ahead of us," he said softly, "we will flank them, and follow your charge. They will likely not engage you directly, but they will attack you with magic, possibly with their hunting animals. We will do our best to protect your back."

Justyn secured the chain and leather helm as best he could and nodded. "Do what you have to," he said, "we are here at your aid."

The ranger nodded and added, "Light be with you."

The brothers smiled.

"Light be with you, brother," the echoed in unison. and the ranger disappeared into the trees.

Justyn nodded at Tyrin, who raised his hand into the air and in a clear and confident voice called for a blessing. The air around the two was suddenly sweeter, the light around them brighter and anyone who might have looked at them at that moment would have seen, despite the miss matched armour and out of use weapons, two formidable, focused and imposing Knights; a glow of devotion and righteousness surrounding them.

"For Silvermoon!" Justyn bellowed. And they charged into an unseen enemy.

* * *

The rangers had been warned that the trolls where splitting their attacks. There was no clear idea of where they where coming from. Scouts had been sent out to watch for the enemy and warn the base. The number of ranger's at the enclave where, in whole, just over a dozen and a half with a few cooks and traders joining in the defence. Half that number had taken the fight out to the Amani. a runner had been sent out toward the west, prepared to receive a dispatch to take to Tranquillien should they be unable to defend the enclave.

The first sounds of attack could have been mistaken for a row between two large predators. It occurred to Kay that it was likely just that. as both the Farstriders and the Amani used beasts as both companions and weapons, he imagined the first line for both sides would be their animals. Almost as one, the archers in the windows notched their arrows. What he did not expect was the suddenly strong, focused, and buffeting wind that ripped at the tower, blowing dust and leaves into the air and obscuring the view beyond. On some unheard command, the falcons perched above them took wing and swooped out of the open windows, soaring up and out of his line of sight. And the archers on the east side of the tower let loose their arrows. And again, and again. They could hear the arrows hitting the side of the tower.  
An archer to their right screamed suddenly and dropped his bow. Kalin turned just in time to see a sickly green streak strike his chest and leave him unconscious and gasping. He heard the birds of pray screeching outside. An archer from the south window moved to replace his companion.

"Oi! Boy!," one of them shouted at him.

He spun around to see a ranger pointing at the empty spot.

"Can you use a bow?"

"Some," he admitted.

"Then move in."

Kalyn's eyes lit up and he rushed at the opportunity to join the action.

Caoimhe watched him with dismay. Cai frowned at the rush of chaotic activity around them.

"Caoi," he said, "Kalyn needs arrows."

Caoimhe looked at the small quiver his brother had been left with and realized it wouldn't last.

Cai started to crouch forward, but tumbled without the crutch on his still healing leg.

"Where are you going?" she hissed.

"There were quivers along the wall downstairs. There are probably more down there," he frowned at his leg.

Caoimhe looked at the ramp and decided quickly, "I'll go." And she started down the ramp hugging the wall.

* * *

The chargers may not have been quiet through the woods, but they where fast and sure footed. The two would have been having the time of their lives dodging fast through the trees on horseback had they not, as predicted, made very fine targets.

The first spear missed, sailing just over the hind quarter of Tyrin's steed. Any slower and he would have worn it in his rib. Not wanting to give them an opportunity to correct their aim, he pushed his mount harder and turned out and wide to flush the attackers from the underbrush. He would have thought it easier to find blue skinned maniacs with flame colored hair that stood three heads taller than any elf throwing spears at them, but the trolls, like the rangers, where used to fighting in the woods. He thought he might have been successful in pushing at least a few into the arms of the flanking Farstriders. The sounds of hand to hand fighting and flashes of color through the trees meant at least someone had joined. He circled back to his original route, only to hang onto the saddle as his charger suddenly threw itself heavily to the left. He felt his face come uncomfortably close to the swiping claws of a huge black lynx. The charger kicked backwards at the cat, but true to its training, came back out of its defencive buck and without hesitation faced off with the beast. The cat had landed, turned, and was considering its next move.

"Alright," Tyrin said to himself, leveling the short spear. "It's just a joust, right?"

With a battle cry that really didn't impress the cat, he spurred his charger forward and the lynx sprung. Tyrin realized his mistake as the cat extended its claws. The much more nimble creature was a hair's breath from sinking claw and tooth into the charger's neck when, in midair, it twisted, screeched and landed awkwardly with several arrows in its side. Several more pierced its shoulder as it turned on the attacker. Tyrin took the opportunity and drove his mount on the wounded beast, lancing it as its attention divided.

Tyrin looked up to find his rescuer.

"They don't joust," Adynned said with a satisfied smirk before she turned and ran back into the melee.

* * *

Justyn didn't see the spear that had missed his brother, but when Tyrin turned his mount, he went to follow suit. And met a sudden wall of spears. The horse reared and the troll warriors thrust forward with the dripping, wicked barbed tips. His charger neighed as the barbs caught its shoulder. Justyn cried out angrily and brought his sword down in a sweeping blow to deflect the weapons. His downswing gave an unseen troll a shot at his open chest. A purple swirl of screaming pain and death hurled itself at him. He saw it just before it struck him. He opened his mouth to utter a blessing, or a curse, he had no idea which would come out first, but neither came in time. The bolt hit him square and sunk into his chest heedless of his armor. He suddenly couldn't breath and felt everything around him slow to a painful crawl as he was blasted off the charger and tossed backward to the forest floor.

* * *

Caoimhe heard the attack going on outside as she came around the curved wall on the bottom floor. The open arch to the lower level seemed far wider and far taller than it had before the attack. She could see the cliff face and the green of the forest that lay beyond. In her mind, she saw dozens of trolls, all with bows trained on her as she ran, her head low, across the open common room to where the few unused quivers sat on a wall. She scooped up as many as she could carry, grabbed an unstrung bow and headed back to the Kalyn and Cai. She gasped and halted suddenly as a spear hit the wall above the outside of the arch and fell with a clang onto the stone floor. startled, she looked up. Above the tower, his foot looped into a rope, a troll was sliding down toward the exposed tower. Two others were higher, just starting their descent. Caoimhe uprooted her feet from the floor and ran as fast as she could back up the ramp, ignoring the possibility that the other two might have spears.

"Kay!" she breathed, eyes wide as she skidded to a halt behind him.

"Get your head down!" he ordered. "What are you doing?" He looked at the quivers she had looped over her shoulders and grabbed one without further comment.

"Kay," she said, as she dropped to her knees and unslung the rest of the quivers. The archer nearest her called for more arrows. Cai crawled across the floor to start handing them out. "Kay," she said again, "They are coming down the cliff."

Rangers on either side picked their ears.

Kay stopped firing and looked at the two open ramps in dismay. He looked at the occupied archers and at his sister. He handed Caoimhe his bow.

"Keep shooting," he said sternly, "Don't waste your shots."

At first, she looked at him, stunned.

His brow crossed and he said, by way of an explanation, "Think of it like shooting squirrels. Really big squirrels."

The archer next to him looked angry. "What are doing?" he demanded.

"She's an excellent shot," he insisted. "Far better than me." He ducked across the floor to the most senior archer he could find. "They are coming down the cliff," he said in his ear.

The ranger let loose the arrow he had set without indicating that he had heard. He pulled a whistle from his pocket and blew it hard. There was no sound, but Kalyn recognized he was calling for the enclave's hunting animals to return. The ranger regarded Kalyn.

"Not an archer, eh?" he said. "Help me with the pitch, we don't have much time."

* * *

Justyn had more than the wind knocked out of him. Whatever had hit him left no physical mark but he felt a type of pain wholly new to him. He knew he was laying still on the ground, but he could have sworn his entire body was spasming with pain. Your not dead, he heard somewhere in the back of his head, but you will be if you don't get up. He focused his mind on getting control of his body. And he prayed, not for divine guidance or for the light to smite his enemies. He prayed he didn't get a spear to the back of his head as he tried to stand up. Unsteadily on his feet, he drew his hunting knife, the only weapon he had left. His charger stomped nearby, braying and thrashing at a troll who had a hold of its reigns, eyeing the horse with a greedy grin. Justyn didn't wait to completely recover his eye sight and jumped at one of the two double visions that had his mount, hoping it was the right one.

* * *

Kalyn was dubious at the idea of setting the ramps ablaze while they were at the top of them. But the ranger informed him that the pitch would burn, not the stone, and even the shingles where shale and not prone to taking to sparks. He explained this as they emptied the barrels out across the two entry, and exit, points to their current position.

He handed Kalyn a torch. "Don't light it until they advance. It is possible it won't be necessary."

Kalyn nodded and crouched behind the wall, keeping his eyes at the base of the ramp. Cai was set at the other ramp with a torch for the same purpose. The rangers had pulled an archer to either side and were prepared to bombard the intruders with arrows from above. The archers at the windows were taking fewer and fewer shots, but he could not tell if it was for want to ammunition or for want of a target. He hoped it was the latter.

* * *

Tyrin circled his mount looking for Justyn. He caught sight of the charger through the trees just to his right, but Justyn was not in the saddle. He pushed his charger through the brush, grim thoughts racing through his head. A troll tugged mercilessly on its reins, determined, it seemed to ride the charger or kill it. Tyrin reared his mount, intent on the animal bringing it's hooves down on the unsuspecting troll. And then a funny thing happened.

He saw three things. He saw Justyn, leaping blindly toward his target. He saw the troll, facing two attackers, let go of the horse and yell for aid. And he saw three more trolls leap from the bushes. Spears at the ready, just in front of him. The reason he saw all of this was because everything around him was moving at an incredibly slow pace, and it was suddenly very, very cold.

The woods were washed in a blueish frost that slowed the attackers and gave the rangers who now ringed them an opening to fire.  
Justyn decided his fall must have damaged his brain. Not only could he not see strait, he was certain he wasn't moving as fast as he should be, even given his current state, and now his arms and legs felt like they were covered in ice. At least his target seemed to be having the same problem. He was shocked to find, as the troll released his steed and turned his spear tip toward him, a horse shoulder in front of him instead. He looked up to see Tyrin's extended arm. Gratefully, he grabbed it, swung himself up behind his brother and held on for dear life as the charger lept out of the path of the ensuing volley. The trolls didn't stand a chance.

* * *

In Kalyn's instruction, he had learned the advantage of defending from the high ground. He kept repeating that to himself as he waited for the right moment to set the pitch. He was watching the ground, watching the trolls drop to the forest floor, watching their cats leaping and taunting the falcons that attempted to scrape at the faces of the trolls on the ropes. He watched the seasoned hunters redirect their attacks to the vulnerable targets.

There aren't enough of us, he thought. There are too many entrances.

He lit the pitch.

"What are you doing!" demanded the ranger behind him.

"Narrowing their options," he said. The pitch lit, he ran to the window where Caoimhe crouched, her bow low and her eyes narrowed at the courtyard she overlooked.

He went for another barrel of pitch.

"Hold," a voice behind him commanded.

He turned to find the Ranger captain glaring at him.

"We have to cut of their access!" he insisted, "force them to our strongest point!"

The ranger flashed him a grim smile as he took the barrel of pitch out of his hands.

"I admire your thinking," he said, "but don't underestimate our tactics."

He pulled from his belt a horn, put it to his lips and blew three long and loud blasts out over the open courtyard. Without waiting to see if his summons was heard, he pulled two arrows from his quiver and handed them to Caoimhe.

"When the trolls come into the yard, fire this one, then this one. into the ground, in the middle of the yard," he indicated the other archers, "They will do the same, fire when they do. Then let my archers do their work." He pulled a halberd from the rack on the wall and handed it to Kalyn. "Defend your archer," he said.

He called a few of his rangers to his side and sent a few to the ramp not yet burning. Without the aid of the whistle, he called out in a high screech. In short order, a massive eagle swept in through the upper windows, buffeting the small area as it hovered. The Frastrider pointed and the eagle soared out over the flames as the captain himself hurtled though the blaze to join the enemy on the other side.

Kalyn stared after him in disbelief.

* * *

Everyone in the woods heard the call. Justyn and Tyrin didn't know exactly what trumpet signals the Farstriders used on the battlefield, but to them, it sounded enough like a return call that Tyrin turned his mount and began galloping back toward the tower. The rangers who had rained arrows upon the cluster of trolls did the same. They had missed a portion of the attacking party, they were certain. a wolf running next to them growled at the path ahead. They could see the brightly colored manes of the trolls bursting, spears and bows ready, into the enclave.

Caoimhe let the first arrow fly as soon as she heard the bow twangs beside her. It landed just at the feet of the advancing party. The lead troll, in dark robes with a cluster of elf sized skulls hanging from its neck, stopped in front of it, he looked up at the tower windows. Scowling, he started to mutter, but he had stepped too close to the crafted arrow. The center enchantment released, followed by the left, then the right as more trolls entered the yard. The open space between the woods and the tower was suddenly filled with a haze and all of trolls seemed lost in the cold fog that emanated up from the ground. The second round of arrows where loosed. It was hard to see through the effects of the first charm, but it seemed that from the edges of the woods, under the troughs and benches and out from the small outhouses and tents slithered dozens of creatures. Caoimhe's jaw dropped as the snakes, attracted by whatever might have been on the arrow, not went viciously after the ankles legs and animals of the trolls that where stuck there.

Justyn swung his leg around the back of Tyrin's mount, shifting the weight in the saddle.

"Nine hells" Tyrin swore leaning the other way to compensate, "what are you doing?"

"Make for the witchdoctor!" he yelled over the din, "And don't slow down."

Tyrin shook his head but didn't argue. instead he charged though the cloud of cold, leaning flat to his charger's neck and ramming through as many trolls as he could on the path.

The witchdoctor heard the steed bearing down on him and turned, his wild eyes flaring in anger and a spell on his lips. He stood to his full height as Tyrin veered and Justyn threw himself off the horse, blade first, toward the voodoo priest.

Caoimhe cheered out loud as the charger plowed through the yard. The knights where followed by a hail of arrows, then a wave of beasts and finally the Farstriders themselves, advancing and firing, pressing the would be attackers into the tower.

"Keep firing!" one of the rangers ordered. Heart pounding, she nodded and started firing at the remaining invaders in the courtyard.

Kalyn stood with his back to her, watching the open ramp, waiting for the enemy to charge. Cai sat in the other window, between two archers, handing them the diminishing supply of arrows one at a time. They could hear a cacophony of noises echoing up from below, but it was impossible to tell from the noise who had the advantage.

He was shocked the troll was not stopped by the burning pitch. Decorated with bones and swinging a sword with a wicket curved blade, the troll ran through the flames, let out a war cry and launched itself into the air, bringing its sword down at its closest target, Kalyn.

Kalyn swung the halberd around without thinking. He planted his feet and braced his shoulder. The blade impaled the troll, the weight of its body and strength of the leap snapped the shaft, bringing the whole of the crazed warrior down on top of the Quel'dori youth. Caoimhe turned as she heard the war cry and screamed as the blade came down toward them, scrambling backwards and swinging her bow at it like a reaper. The archers in the windows turned and expertly dispatched it where it lay attempting to regain its ground, impaled though it was on the wide halberd blade.

Blood covered the floor. Had there been a charge for the other ramp, it died before reaching the second level. The sounds of metal on metal receded into retreating animals and fleeing trolls. A handful of bodies lay in the courtyard, troll and elf alike. They heard foot falls on the ramp.

Tyrin passed the archers heading down as he plowed onto the landing, sword in hand.

"Help!" Cai begged as he and Caoimhe ineffectively tried to pull the massive troll off Kalyn's prone form.

Tyrin blanched. He ran to the troll, grabbed it by an arm and the belt and rolled it off his brother. He sighed with relief as he heard Kalyn groan.

The shaft of the long weapon had splintered and as the troll collapsed on top of Kay, the broken wood drove into his shoulder and the fall knocked him unconscious. Not being able to breathe under the weight of the thing hadn't helped.

As Tyrin tried to revive his brother, Cai and Caoimhe recounted the defense of the tower. He nodded and frowned, but wasn't really listening. Short chunks of wood protruded from his shirt, which at least was soaking up the blood. He took a deep breath to calm his mind.

"Caoimhe, go find some water," he said. "Cai, the rangers have bandages, I'm sure."

Backing off quietly, the two disappeared down the ramp to find what Tyrin needed.

Tyrin didn't actually need either of those things, he just needed space to think. He cleared his mind, pushed every inane thing Kalyn had said in the past few weeks out of his head, laid one hand on his brother's forehead and one hand over the wound, and began to pray.

* * *

Justyn sat looking over the courtyard as one of the Farstriders generously bandaged his wounds. He sat still, but his foot tapped furiously. He had not seen his siblings, he had not seen his charger, and, he realized, he had not seen Adynned. And he was somewhat embarrassed and put off that his concern did not lay in that exact order. The ranger kept frowning at him every time he shifted.

"Sorry," he kept saying.

The trolls had faired worse, it seemed, than the enclave, but since no one knew exactly how many had started the attack, it was impossible to say. The enclave had lost several animals, and the rangers were grievously upset by this. Justyn was surprised to find that he empathized, as he was beginning to mourn the possible loss of his steed. They had lost two scouts as well, and at least one of the traders who had taken up with them had not been a match for the fight. He fretted over his siblings. And where was Ty?

He heard the clopping of hooves on the hard packed dirt and wheeled suddenly, knocking his would be nurse off ballance.

"Sorry," he said again, but with more sincerity as he took the bandage himself and closed the distance across the courtyard.

Adynned let his wounded mount toward a small stable. She looked at his bandaged arms, then at him.

He shrugged a little, turning pink at the tips of his ears. "I forgot they have tusks," he explained.

She shook her head and handed him the reins.

"If you see our stable master, he can see to your friend," she pat the animals flank gently. "They don't look deep, but the Amani employ magic and poisons, you can't be too carefull."

Justyn rubbed his chest, remembering the bolt that had knocked him off his mount, "yes, thank you."

He stared at her for a moment, finding he was overly relieved that she seemed uninjured.

"If you need anything," he offered, a little limply.

She shook her head, "We can take care of our own. See to your mount," she looked behind him across the yard and raised her chin in that direction. "And your kin."

Justyn again spun around again, faster than his body was willing to put up with, and steadied himself against his horse. To his great relief, he saw Cai and Caoimhe making their way through the yard towards them.

"We need water!" she yelled as she ran to them.

"And bandages," Cai limped behind her.

Justyn reflexively pulled a skin from his saddle pack and handed it to her. "Where is Ty?"

"He's with Kalyn," Cai said. "He needs bandages."

Justyn frowned. "For who?" he asked, fearing his worst thoughts confirmed.

"For Kay!" his brother said, frustrated.

Justyn turned to Adynned wordlessly for help. She nodded, put a hand on Cai shoulder and steered him toward a gathering of wounded at the base of the tower.

"Where are they?" Justyn asked Caoimhe.

She pointed to her former perch in the tower.

"Take him the water, I will be there as fast as I am able," he gave her a gentle shove in the right direction.

The stable master was sympathetic, and promised to see to the horse as quickly as possible. Justyn was not pleased to leave the horse without seeing to her care, but his priorities had to lay elsewhere. He made his way, a bit slower than he would have liked, to the tower and up to the second tier.

"Please let them be alright," he found himself muttering, "Please let them be fine."

He said a silent thank you when he saw the four of them sitting together, Kalyn propped on Tyrin's shoulder, the younger two anxiously waiting for him to either jump up or collapse, he wasn't sure which. They all looked at him as he approached. He forced a smile.

"I hear you are quite the defenders," he said. It sounded weak even as he said it. He rubbed his hands on his pants and sighed. He looked them all over. They were dirty, their clothes were torn. Kalyn had no wounds, but he was clearly weak and covered in blood. This would be hard to explain. "We will stay, to help," he said quietly. "And then we will all go home. Together. We will stay together this time."


	6. Chapter 6

There was nothing, as far as Bachanan could tell, good about the Blasted Lands. The earth was scorched bare by fel fires, the wildlife polluted by the fel energies that destroyed the place. It was like an unseen hand had simply scraped all the life from it. And yet there they were, fighting to bring it some measure of salvation. At least that is what he kept telling himself. But as the dry wind blasted his face and left a reddish dust etched into the dents of his well worn breast plate, the reasons seemed muddy and the purpose less sound. He had been a year in this foreign nightmare, devoid of the common courtesies of home, the civility of a world still guided by the principals of the Light, and separated from family. He had felt it his duty to come, to protect the priests of the order as they sought to heal it, to keep the demonic essences that this place wreaked of from creeping through the gates and infesting their own home. It was a noble goal. But he had seen little healing, less nobility and even the priests where finding reasons other than salvation to stay. It was a good thing he was leaving. Even so, he felt somehow that he had not accomplished what he felt called to do.

"Don't tell me you are going to miss it," a voice said from behind as he stared out over the impossible terrain.

Bachanan did not turn around. "No," he said with emphasis.

"Good," the other paladin came to stand beside him. "I would have doubted your sanity."

Bachanan glanced slightly sideways at Kyler'tel. He was younger, and taken to being familiar with all of his comrades in arms, even his seniors. It had come to be a forgivable offense, as he was tremendous on the field. Still, Bachanan was not overly inclined to indulge the habit.

Kyler'tel followed Bachanan's gaze out over the ruined landscape. "I understand you will be returning to Quel'Thalas soon," he said.

Bachanan nodded.

Kyler'tel nodded.

"I have spoken to my captain," he started. Bachanan raised an eyebrow as the younger knight spoke, "he is agreeable, if you are agreeable," he spoke with an air of confidence, as if it was a forgone conclusion, "to my joining your detachment until you depart."

"I have a fine squad," Bachanan said without considering it, "I see no need to disrupt the balance."

Kyler'tel turned to look at him, clearly not expecting the refusal. Still, his voice remained even as he continued, "I had hoped to benefit from your leadership, before you left. You are highly spoken of, among the captains and commanders, even among the other races. Will you not reconsider?"

"I appreciate your praise," Bachanan said, turning to Kyler'tel, "though it may be undeserved. Even so, I cannot disrupt the cohesion of my knights to satisfy your needs." The younger knight looked momentarily insulted, but recovered quickly. "Let me ask you," Bachanan continued, "is your own captain not a sufficient leader?"

His expression changing from insulted too surprise. "Not at all, he is a fine captain," he did not intend to sound treasonous.

"Then why do you wish, with so little time left in my service here, to leave his?"

"He is a fine knight," Kyler'tel began, "A fine knight of Stormwind," he stressed.

Bachanan smiled slightly and nodded. "Ah, now I understand." He contemplated the request. "You wish to serve among your own kind."

Kyler'tel sighed with relief that his intentions were understood. "I would like to have the opportunity," he said honestly, "to serve under a captain who appreciates the Light in the way I was taught."

"Is it so different?" he asked.

"It is different enough," he said, "and you are a leader of renown, your reputation for valor and honor are..."

Bachanan held up his hand.

Kyler'tel fell silent. He waited for an answer.

"I will consider it," was the closest he came.

With a sigh, the younger knight bowed and left Bachanan to his own thoughts.

Bachanan did not watch him leave, he instead turned and headed to his own barrack. Yes, he thought, it is a good time to go home.

* * *

"I thought you would be here much earlier," the ranger frowned as the young girl dismounted.

Caoimhe didn't take it personally, Adynned always sounded like a scold.

"I had to ride more slowly," she said, carefully digging into the saddle bag she brought and producing a carefully wrapped package. "I brought eggs!" she extended them excitedly.

Adynned's eyes actually lit up. "Oh, eggs!" she smiled a little, taking the little basket. "Well, I suppose that is worth a little extra time. This is more than usual, what do you want for them?" She started walking toward the center of the Farstrider's camp, where the tanner did her work.

Caoimhe followed, "Oh, have you any of that cheese?" her mouth started to water thinking about it, "the soft kind?"

"The bree?" Adynned frowned. "I'm not sure, that is fairly hard to come by anymore." She looked at the girl as she walked beside her. "You're developing expensive tastes."

Caoimhe brushed a stray hair out of her eyes, and smiled, "I am not...am I? Is it very expensive?"

Adynned sighed, "Anything hard to come by is expensive."

"Why is cheese so hard to come by?"

"Because that particular cheese, it comes from Stormwind," there was a touch of displeasure in her voice as she continued, "And they have been rather stingy with their trade of late."

"Oh," Caoimhe said simply.

Adynned shook the politics from her head, "But if we don't have that, I'm sure we will find you something suitable. You're mother doesn't make cheese?"

Caoimhe shook her head, "We don't have any milking animals any more," she said, a little sad. "Mother doesn't have time to keep them like she used to."

The Ranger raised an eyebrow, "Really? I would have thought with all those children gone, she would have more time than ever."

Her young friend bit her lip and stiffened her gate, Adynned wondered if Caoimhe knew she gave herself away so easily.

"Not really," Caoimhe said slowly, "She has been assisting the healers in Tranquillien. I can't...I can't care for everything the way she can."

Adynned nodded her understanding. "But the chickens," she smiled, "you take care of them brilliantly."

Caoimhe brightened, "Oh yes, they are quite easy, and we have plenty of eggs now that I am the only one that eats them. We have more vegetable too, would you like some next time I come?"

"I think perhaps we could use something other than field greens, yes," she smiled.

The trades had worked out well for both of them. While Caoimhe wasn't able to bring much, what she was able to trade for the lessons in leather working and fletching brought a little variety to the enclave's meals. The girl had insisted on the trade for the lessons, when she first came back to the enclave alone and saught out the tanner. When the tanner had to leave the enclave, Adynned offered to continue the lessons, at first refusing the trades. It was soon clear to Adynned that, like the rest of her stubborn house, she had slightly over developed sense of responsibility and wouldn't partake of the lesson unless she felt she was offering something in return. A smile crossed her face. Caoimhe really had no idea what made a fair trade, but the added benefit of having her act as a messenger between the Ranger and her brother made up for the lack.

"Did you bring anything else today?" she asked, her own face suddenly serious.

Caoimhe looked a little embarrassed, "No...no I'm sorry. There has been nothing for...for a while."

"Well," Adynned said, her normal matter of fact tone taking hold again. "Lets not waste the time we have left."

* * *

Tranquillien was always busy. Knights coming from the Southern gates or heading to them, in varied states of exhaustion or injury. The Order was, by and large, able to take care of their own, wherever their knights' might need to be. It was a mater of honor, and a matter of pride. But some healing does not happen instantly, and some prayers take longer to answer, and for that, the Order had Tranquillien. Before the knights would return home, whole, they would rest, out of sight and unmolested, first. And Salina would care for them. In another time, perhaps, she might have been a priest. She had no desire to serve in battle, but she did not fear it, or its sad necessity. Her soft, skilled hands could have been bent in prayer, but she had a practical nature that did not have the patience for the long lessons of the clergy. And there had been Bachanan.

The young knights had been returning to Tranquillien a particular kind of broken. It was something Salina had never seen and the priest where loath to explain. Wounds heal, cuts, bruises, broken bones; the paladins themselves could address these things. Nightmares, sadness, despair; the priests could handle these. But these young elves, male and female, returned despondent, defeated and overcome with hallucinations of horrors that only they could see. They sat in the little hospital in the corner of the town staring defenseless at visions that attacked them, whimpering that there was nothing any of them could do. Or they would alternately rave that they would be consumed and beg for forgiveness from an unseen terror. To these unfortunate knights, Salina would concoct and administer a drought that would put them into a deep and, hopefully, dreamless sleep that everyone prayed would ease their suffering. At first, it was rare for a knight to be stricken so, but more and more returned from campaigns unspoken of in this condition, and Salina spent more and more time in the little hospital.

"Pardon me, good priest," a voice came from the hall, "I am looking for someone?"

Salina's heart rushed into her throat. The poor soul she was attending could not understand why her eyes suddenly filled with tears and her hands started shaking. Despite that, a wide and thankful smile spread across her face. She could barely finish pulling the sheets over her patent, her breath was coming short and she had to resist the urge to run to find the speaker. She didn't have to. She turned sharply and was almost toppled by the tall, greying knight who caught her in his arms.

"Bachanan," she sobbed into his chest, unable to contain her relief that her husband was finally home.

* * *

The rider didn't even slow as she approached the cluster of holy knights that gathered around the table that was set outside of the Inn. They turned, some looked surprised, some angry, one amused as the Farstrider pulled up her mount just in front of them.

"Master Bachanan?" she asked, searching the faces for the one she needed.

Bachanan stepped forward, crossed his arm and said, "Yes?" His tone told his fellows that the interruption was neither expected nor appreciated. His return had merely meant a different kind of work, but not any less work.

The young woman swung off her mount and started digging in her saddlebag.

"Why don't we take a small break," the most senior of the paladins said, "Until the farstrider has concluded her business." The comment was dripping with unpleasant sarcasm.

Bachanan sighed and turned to the rider, who either hadn't heard or didn't care, "What is it you need, miss," he said.

The rider turned and presented him with a wrapped package and a quiver. "Caoimhe left these at the lodge," she said. "I thought she might be wanting them, and as I was passing through, it seemed only polite to deliver them."

Bachanan furrowed his brow, he took the items and then looked at the young woman. "Pardon, but, who are you and what have you to do with my daughter?"

The rider looked momentarily annoyed, but recovered quickly, her features suddenly fixing in a cool stare. "My name is Adynedd," she said, as if he should have know that, "I am a friend of Justyn's."

"Indeed?" he said somewhat suspiciously as he looked at the packages. Adynedd tried to hide her surprise. "He has not mentioned me?"

"He has not," Bachanan said flatly, "But that did not answer my question."

Adynedd straitened and took back to her saddle. "I have been teaching Caoimhe how to properly skin, and do some basic useful work with the leather."

The paladin looked up at her on the hawk strider. "You have?" he asked, clearly unaware and clearly less than pleased.

Suddenly it occurred to her that her errand might not have been as helpful as she thought. "I have," she said, "she is quite good at it, for someone so young." She thought the compliment might have softened his displeasure, but his expression did not change.

"And how long have you been instructing her?"

There was something in his tone that made Adynedd uncomfortable. Something accusatory.

"Since we met," she said, intentionally vague.

Bachanan did not like this game, "And how long is that?"

Adynedd smiled sweetly, "I don't recall exactly," she said, "Perhaps you should ask Justyn, he might recall more completely."

His jaw set as he started at her.

"I will see that she gets these," he said by way of dismissal. He turned back to the table where his compatriots were starting to return.

She regarded his back for a moment, unconcerned that he was clearly finished with the conversation. Satisfied that his ire would be on Justyn and not Caoimhe, she prodded her mount and kicking up dust in her wake, took off on her official task.

* * *

Bachanan looked at his daughter over his meal. She had grown in the year he had been away. The celebration of his return had settled to the tasks of life at hand. Her trading trips to Suncrown and the the other towns had been curbed, now that he was home to handle these things himself. She had protested the loss of the weekly rides, and he now had a better understanding of why. He frowned. She sat quietly next to him, her eyes on her plate, picking at her food with little interest. He looked at his wife, who he was surprised to see was looking at him. He cleared his throat.

"Caoimhe," he said.

She sat up straighter and snapped her attention to him. "Sir?" she asked.

"I have spoken to the page Master, he has agreed that you may begin your service immediately," he watched her face to gauge her acceptance of the idea.

Caoimhe froze, her fork hovering above her plate.

"Sir?" she asked again, this time in disbelief.

Salina looked slightly concerned. They had discussed this, but immediately had not been the time table. "Bachanan," she said sweetly, but in the tone that told Caoimhe this was not a unified decision.

Bachanan turned his attention to Salina. "This is for the best, Salina. She needs the discipline, and now that it is only the two of you, it will allow you to be in Tranquillien, to assist the healers."

Salina looked from Bachanan to Caoimhe. "She is too young," she pronounced.

Bachanan looked surprised. He furrowed his brow. "She is only a few years younger than Cai was."

"And Cai was very young," she reasoned.

"Salina," he said, his voice more intense than conversational. Caoimhe put her fork down quietly and slid to the back of her chair. "She has no supervision here," Salina's face flared slightly and he added quickly, "When you are in Tranquillien, and you are needed more and more there." He turned his eyes to Caoimhe, who had dropped her gaze to her lap, unsure of how to respond to being the object of a conversation that she knew did not want her participation. "She can't be wandering all over the woods." Caoimhe's eyes met her father's and she knew instantly he knew where she had been spending her days. "It is not seemly," he continued. He turned back to Salina, "And it is best that she begin her formal training while she is so impressionable."

Salina looked at Caoimhe. "Caoimhe, how do you feel about this?"

Caoimhe looked from her mother to her father. "I...," she stammered. "I am...honored."

Bachanan nodded curtly and the meal continued in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Caoimhe hated being a page. She did it without complaint, but if Cai had found it difficult, she found it impossible. She did not share the enthusiasm of the older pages. She did not have the strength they all seemed to possess. She did not have the need to turn every task into a competition as the others often did and she was rubbish with a sword. She was unfailingly polite, even to the other pages, which instantly set her as the target for ridicule and suspicion. Anyone that agreeable had to trying to gain the upper hand. The one thing she was consistently better at than the other pages was speed. She was fast on foot and seemed to be able to edge out her peers on even the slower of the stable's mounts. She was outstanding with the hawk striders and the chargers and was completely willing to take the stable duties when everyone else looked for more glamorous tasks. Within a few months, she was the courier of choice, running or riding messages from Silvermoon to Tranquillien to the southernmost gates of Quel'Thalas. These were the tasks she was happiest to do. Alone and moving, she could be herself on the road and still be in the service of the Order. In every other way, however, she simply did not fit in with the other young quel'dori preparing to enter the Order. But she refused to give up, and it was her dedication to the Order, rather than her skill with the tools of the trade, that carried her through her service as a page and into her training as a squire.

* * *

"You're just not trying," the young initiate complained, pulling the visor of her helm up and dropping her shield arm in disgust.

Caoimhe tried to adjust the over sized helmet she wore so she could more clearly see Gwenythed. Even with her hair braided and rolled under the helm, it kept sliding sideways as she swung the sword.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," she said.

"Gwenythed," the older girl corrected sharply.

The other initiates and squires who where training in the dusty little circle where pausing to watch the exchange. Gwenythed became aware of their stares. She resettled her helm.

"Alright, again," and with little warning she brought the practice blade around and down in a direct strike at the squire's head.

Caoimhe gasped and dropped the sword, using both hands to lift the shield over her head.

"Not like that!" her frustrated tutor yelled.

She pushed Caoimhe back with her shield. Caoimhe's feet were poorly set for another blow and her sword was now too far away to easily reach. When Gwenythed brought her sword around again in the same attack, Caoimhe again hefted the shield up to protect her head, but at the same time dropped her whole body so her sparing partner had no resistance to the blow. Gewnythed stumbled forward slightly and as she did, raised her shield enough for Caoimhe to solidly kick her in the shin. Stunned, she yelped in pain. With a force drawn more out of anger than good training technique, she swung her shield down, catching Caoimhe in her crouch and driving her onto the ground again. Caoimhe reached back and grabbed her sword, planting her shield firmly in front of her in a defencive front, sword set, as if her opponent would willingly impale herself on it. Gwennyved scowled at her and lowered her wooden weapon.

"Honestly, Caoimhe," she said as she limped toward the little building that housed the practice arsenal. "You aren't even trying."

Caoimhe sighed as she stood. "Yes I am," she said to herself, twisting the helm back around again.

"That looked like something Cai would do."

Caoimhe turned as the Squire Master approached, trailed slightly by her brother Kalyn. She removed her helmet and bowed slightly. He nodded and extended his hand, indicating her helm. She passed it to him for inspection.

"This is too big for you," he observed. even with the leather scull cap and hair, she couldn't keep it on strait. "How can you fight if you can't see?"

"It's the smallest I could find," she said. "Can I just...can I just not wear it?"

Anston smiled and handed it back to her, "And that is also something Cai would do. No, that wouldn't serve you. The point is to practice with the proper equipment."

"But I am faster without it," she insisted. "And without the shield. And I can see better without them as well."

Anston shook his head, "Practice. You'll get the hang of it." He nodded at her and continued his walk around of the practice yard, observing the other would be combatants. Kalyn lingered.

"You should show Gwenythed a little more respect," he said to her.

Caoimhe looked at him incredulously. "By what, not kicking her in the shin?"

Kalyn frowned. "No," he said slowly, "that seemed fair. I mean you should respect the fact that she is an initiate and you are a squire."

His sister blinked at him with surprise. "She thinks I am not trying. As if...as if I am letting her hit me on purpose!"

"Are you?" he asked.

"Kay!" she exclaimed, honestly hurt.

He held up his hand as an apology. She frowned at him anyway.

"Would you like for me to speak with her?" he offered after a moment of staring at each other.

Caoimhe bent down to pick up her sword and sighed. "No," she said. "I'll just...I'll just try harder." She had a sudden thought and looked up at him hopefully, "Perhaps you could help me? You are excellent with a sword and shield. You could tutor me, perhaps?"

Kalyn looked at first surprised, then pleased. He rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps, if I can find the time, if you can find the time" he said. "You should put your things away," he said tilting his head in the direction Gwenythed had stormed off.

Caoimhe nodded and smiled and bowed slightly before jogging off to the shed.

* * *

Kalyn watched her go, his brow furrowed in thought. He could make time to assist Caoimhe. She just needed a little tactical training, he thought. The kick wasn't a bad instinct, but that type of "dirty fighting" would likely be frowned upon in her trials. And perhaps he would talk to Gwen anyway.

There wasn't a great deal of time, for either of them, to get away to practice. Kalyn set aloft a third small ball of light that floated into the aim above them, illuminating the little clearing. Satisfied, he lifted his practice sword and turned to Caoimhe.

She stood in the ill fitting armor, shield on one arm, sword up in the other, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Kalyn sighed. "Alright," he began, "lets see what you know."

She took a defensive stance, peering over the shield, sword pointing out in front of her.

"What is that?" he asked, clearly unimpressed.

"My defensive position," she said, very seriously, bobbing slightly as she tried to steady the shield.

Kalyn shook his head and walked over to her. She swung her whole body toward him, prepared for a sneak attack. Kalyn stopped and laughed. Caoimhe lowered her shield.

"No?" she asked.

"No," he said, "here. Like this."

He set his feet in solid stance, his shoulder forward, his feet balanced, the shield slightly forward of him, his sword arm coiled back, ready to strike. He focused into the distance, his face grimly set in an unseen foe.

Caoimhe was duely impressed. She tried to copy his stance. He looked side ways at her.

"You're so damn short, Caoi," he humphed, adjusting her shield and twisting her torso slightly. She made a face as she tried to hold the unnatural position.

"Sorry," she said.

"Alright, now," he said, resuming his instructional position. "Think of your shield not only as your defence, but as your first attack."

"But I thought...," she started.

"Do you want me to help you or not?" he snapped.

"Yes," she said.

"Then don't interrupt me," he frowned.

"Sorry," she sighed.

Kalyn shook his shoulders and resumed the lesson.

Over and over, the same basic moves, until she almost had it down without thinking.

They worked until the grey line of dawn appeared low in the sky and the trumpets sounded to wake the rest of the squires for their morning duties. Caoimhe, sweaty and red faced, started to gather their things.

"Now, when you are in the training yard today," Kalyn said as he watched her stack the practice weapons, as he retrieved the luminaries, "don't forget that." He grinned a little to himself, "If you open against Gwen with that move, you aught to at least surprise her a little." He had spared with her before and found her style predictable. He could at least set Caoimhe up for a little success in that regard.

His sister smiled at him.

"Thank you, Kay," she said.

"Kalyn," he corrected. "You better get moving, or you'll be late."

Caoimhe sighed and nodded and headed back to the barrack for prayers.

* * *

Gwenythed stood somewhat surprised and a little confused that her first charge did not knock her squire onto her backside. As a matter of fact, her sword arm was stinging slightly from the solid block Caoimhe delivered, although her follow up attack had bounced harmlessly off the initiates shield.

Caoimhe was equally stunned that she was still on her feet and that Gwen, Gwenythed, had not come through with a second attack. Not wanting to let the good fortune slide by her, she raised the shield and came toward her opponent with a backslash. Surprised, Gwenythed pressed out with her shield, pinning Caoimhe's arm uncomfortably between her shield and her own body and brought the pommel of her sword down hard on Caoimhe's upraised shield.

Caoimhe grunted and buckled, but didn't fall. She was horribly off balance, however and Gwen grinned as she gave one solid push on the shield to knock the squire to the ground.

Gwenythed stood looking down at the squire.

"Well, it was better," she conceded, "but not by much."

* * *

The following morning found Caoimhe banging heavily on a stuffed dummy in the practice yard with a long stick for a weapon.

"Can you see that at all?" Kalyn asked as he approached, the shields and swords stacked on his arms.

"Yes," she said grimmly. "It doesn't move."

Kalyn laughed, "Well, your enemy will."

"I know," she said, spinning the stick around and sweeping upward with it, raising the dummy off the post a bit. Kalyn looked impressed.

"That's not bad," he said. "Perhaps you should try the larger swords, maybe a shield and long sword is not your best option."

Caoimhe stopped and planted the end of the sick in the dirt. "Yes!" she said emphatically, "that is what I have been saying!"

Kalyn smiled. "But that is what you will be expected to learn, sword and shield. You have to master those skills before moving on."

Caoimhe let the stick fall to the dust, a frustrated look on her face.

"But you were better, yesterday," he admitted.

"I still ended up on the ground in two swings," she said. "I'd be better without the shield."

"You'd be dead without the shield," he countered. "Come on, lets get started."

They continued for an hour, with the same lesson, planning a counter attack and a second move with the shield, and sweating and red faced, they packed everything up and went about their day, Kalyn watching the sparring with interest and noting that his sister did, indeed, take slowly to the training.

* * *

"She's thick," Gwenythed said sourly.

Kalyn felt an odd bristling at the back of his neck and am angry thump in his chest.

"No," he said to the younger initiate, "she is...far from thick." He didn't want to seem partial, but he couldn't help feel somewhat offended. Not only because Caoimhe was his sister, but because he had been instructing her.

Gwenythed crossed her arms and stared at Kalyn. He did not like the burning look she flashed him.

"She can't wield a sword." she said definitively. 'Which is a shame, because i had such high hopes for her."

"She's only just started her training," he insisted, "And I don't think the sword is the problem."

"She's thick, that's the problem."

"I suppose you were much better when you started?" he shot at her.

"I was, actually," she said smuggly. "Ask anyone."

Kalyn growled a little, "I think I might."

"Well if you're asking me to go easy on her," the young lady said turning her back and walking away, "Forget it. She is MY squire and i will do as I see fit."

Kalyn stormed in front of her, "First, she is the ORDER's squire, not your personal servant, not as long as you are still an initiate. Second, you will train her as instructed by Master Anston. and third," he stood to his full height and glowered at her, "You do not turn your back when a Knight addresses you."

They glared at each other for a moment before she said through gritted teeth. "Fine."

He nodded curtly, turned, and walked away.

Well, he thought, that did not go quite as I had hoped.

* * *

The next morning Kalyn found his sister again wailing on the practice dummy, this time with only a small stick. He watched her for a few minutes before interupting.

"Why don't you bring a shield to practice with?" he asked.

"I don't like using them," she said.

"Yes, but you know you have to learn."

She shrugged.

"Well, lets get started."

They reviewed the same sequence, every time Kalyn came down on her shield arm, she winced, until he finally stopped and said, "Are you hurt or something? You don't usually pull back like that."

"Sparring was particularly hard yesterday, " she admitted, lowering her shield.

Kalyn frowned. His talk had not only caused Gwenythed to be angry with him, which he could care less about, but it seemed she was taking her frustration out on Caoimhe. He wasn't worried that she would harm the squire, but he was irritated that Gwen had not taken his suggestions about how best to teach her to heart. A grin spread across his face.

"Caoimhe," he said cheerily, "we need to play to your strengths."

She looked at him, a little confused.

"Lets loose the shields," he said.

"But I thought you said..."

"Yes, yes," he waved his hand, "I know what i said. Just for practice, lets try it."

Happily, Caoimhe unstrapped the shield and let it fall to the side.

This, she thought she might be able to do.

She was definitely not the swordsman her brother was, but without the shield she could move much faster. He seemed to be a move ahead of her, but he countered and coached, rather than simply knocking her to the ground. She managed a few solid blows to his legs, which he noted were a good use of taking advantage of her openings, but wouldn't bring a foe down. Finally, he called the bout to an end.

"Now," he said as they both caught their breath, "get your shield."

"Aw," she protested.

"Who is the teacher," he asked.

She dutifully equipped her shield.

He picked up his own shield. "Now," he said, "Here is what you do."

* * *

When the afternoon training came around, Caoimhe stared fixedly at Gwennythed. She seemed both irritated and eager at the same time. She looked Caoimhe over.

"Do you think you can manage better today?" she asked, a bit of a nasty edge on her voice.

"I've been practicing," she admitted.

"Yes but the dummy's don't fight back," the taller girl lowered her visor. "Where is your helm?" she asked, realizing that Caoimhe only wore the leather scull cap that went under the heavy headgear.

"I left it in the barrack," Caoimhe said.

"That was a mistake," she said, and launched into what had become a very predictable attack.

As Kalyn had instructed her, Caoimhe blocked solidly. As she had the previous days, she swung at Gwen's side, but rather than connecting with her shield, as Gewnythed was expecting, she swung low and up, catching her behind her knee. Gwenythed, in mid swing, faltered on the collapsing leg, stumbling to her left to catch her balance. Her blow went far wide, coming down inside Caoimhe's shield, catching the shield by the corner. Caoimhe, who had never strapped her shield arm into the shield, let it swing out in front of her, letting go of the handle completely. The force of Gwen's blow caused the unattached shield to flip over into her, hitting her in the head as she tilted sideways. Caoimhe spun to her left, around to Gwen's now blind right side and before the more experienced initiate could recover her balance, landed a solid blow to her ribs in what would be an open and critical break in a knights armor. Gwen fell to the ground, sandwiched between the two shields.

Caoimhe stood in a defensive crouch, waiting for Gwen to get up.

The other sparing matches had stopped.

Master Anston walked over to observe.

Gwenythed pushed one shield off, refusing Caoimhe's help to stand, and fighting to look poised, reseated her helm. Trying to ignore the attention Caoimhe's unexpected win had drawn, she stared at her trainee.

"That will only work once, you know," she glared at Caoimhe.

"It only has to work once," Kalyn said, grinning wickedly from his stance beside the Squire Master.

Anston nodded. "Unorthodox, but effective," he conceded. "Still, you need to learn with the shield. Gwenythed, go to the infirmary, see that Caoimhe did you no permanent damage. Kalyn, please continue with Caoimhe," he shot Kalyn a look, "on proper technique, until Miss Gwenythed returns."

Kalyn and Caoimhe saluted, grinned, retrieved the shields and resumed the arduous process of training.


	8. Chapter 8

The kitchen was abuzz. Maids and matrons, bakers and pages spun around the table and in and out of the small tent that now somehow seemed too small to accommodate the celebration. Salina hummed happily to herself in the midst of the activity. She floated around, inspecting the fruits and meats, the pastries and wines. Her face was set in a dainty, ladylike smile. But her calm belayed her elation. Her eldest son was getting married.

There were cousins and aunts and uncles, extended family and obligitors, all milling about and between the tents that spread out across the jousting field. They avoided one tent, however, set to the side, smaller than the rest. Whenever anyone passed, they smiled and nodded, whispering and chatting or shaking their heads before continuing to enjoy the hosts hospitality.

Justyn and Tyrin wore their livery. Formal and fine, with the emblems of Silvermoon and symbols of the Protectors of the Light embroidered in gold on their chests, they're garments were unmarred save for the black armbands they had chosen to wear.

"Take those off," Kalyn admonished, rolling his eyes. "It's ridiculous." The young initiate wore a less decorated version of his older brother's finery. He pulled his long hair back into a top knot and brushed the dust from his gloves.

Justyn pulled a chair from the side of the tent, spun it backwards and sat down, leaning his chin on the back rest, a childish grin on his face.

"You'd think you were getting married, the way you keep fixing yourself in that mirror," he said.

Kalyn frowned at his brother's reflection, but ignored the dig as he fastened his sword belt and made sure it hung properly on his hip.

"We're the honor guard," he said stiffly. "It is important."

"He had to ask us," Tyrin laughed, "Mother wouldn't let him ask anyone else."

"He would have asked us anyway," Caoimhe said from the corner. The squire was in a simple smock compared to her older brothers, but no less sharp. Her red hair braided back. The gold ribbons were her mother's insistence for the occasion, normally a squire would not adorn themselves with such decoration.

"He would have asked you," Tyrin smiled at her. "The rest of us he would just as soon shipped off for the day."

"Because you do," Kalyn waved a pointed finger at the arm bands, "you do that sort of nonsense."

"Oh come on, Kay," Justyn said, "Mourning the loss of our dear brother to the bonds of matrimony is a sign of respect." His face went cold sober, "I know he would have done the same for me."

Tyrin laughed and Caoimhe giggled. Kalyn rolled his eyes and headed out of the tent.

"I'm going to find Cai," he grumbled. "He should have been back by now."

Justyn watched him go, sighed, and replaced the chair. "You know what he needs?" he asked Tyrin.

"A girl?" Tyrin grinned.

"I was thinking a good swift kick in the ass, but a girl might set him strait as well," Justyn smiled.

"He has a girl," Caoimhe said casually, "well, rather, there is a girl that fancies him."

The brothers stopped their preparations, looked at their sister, then at each other. Their faces were overcome with broad smiles.

"Caoi, Caoi," Justyn said, wrapping an arm over her shoulders, "Where did you hear this?"

"And why didn't you tell us sooner?" Tyrin put his arm around her from the other side.

Caoimhe ducked out from under their grasp. "I didn't think it was important," she said, tucking her hair back in place and fixing her collar.

Tyrin humphed, "Anything that might loosen the stick up his..."

"Ahem," Justyn cut him off. The tent flap swung to one side. Justyn and Tyrin stood and bowed. Caoimhe turned and saluted out of habit. Bachanan nodded.

"You are not all here?" he said looking around the small tent.

"Kalyn and Cai went to retrieve the swords," Justyn explained.

"Isn't that a squire's duty?" he asked coolly, his eyes sliding from Justyn's black arm band to his youngest child.

Caoimhe looked mortified. "I...I...Mother was finishing my hair," she said, pulling the braid from behind her back as evidence.

Bachanan raised an eyebrow, but let the issue fall.

"And where is Dahanan?"

"He rode to the chapel over an hour ago," Justyn said. "Said he wanted some time to...pray."

It sounded a little ridiculous even as it came out of his mouth, but if Bachanan thought it was meant to be snide, he didn't show it. He nodded a short approval and gave his children one last inspection.

"We will ride to the chapel then when your brothers return," he said as he exited. "And take off those armbands, your mother would have a fit."

The young knights managed to stifle their laughter until their father had left the tent.

* * *

Dahanan stood at the dais of the chapel alone. Light streamed gloriously through the high arched windows, bounced and reflected off the gold and ivory trimmed walls. Delicate curtains hung perfectly in reverence to the holiness of the chamber. It was awe-inspiring, but he wasn't paying any attention to that.

He paced a few steps back and forth. Jumped a few times on his toes to shake the butterflies from his stomach, and paced again. He looked out at the empty hall, soon to be filled with family, friends, fellow knights. His head whirled. HER family, her friends, and whomever her family had included on the guest list. The tips of his ears turned pink.

"You're very early," a soft voice came from an alcove at the side of the dais.

Dahanan spun, the blush spreading from his ears to his entire face as he stared at his soon to be bride. A genuine smile spread across his face.

"You look beautiful," he said, wanting to step up to her and embrace her, but stuck where he was by a sudden weakness in his knees. Adorei smiled and blushed herself.

"Oh, but...you shouldn't be here," he said, looking around for her entourage. "Does anyone know where you are?" he stepped up to her still looking for her escort, and took her hand, wrapping it around his arm.

She laughed lightly, "No, and it's fine," she smiled, "What about you? Where is your honor guard?"

"I left them at the tent," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I needed some time...to myself."

She peered up at him, "Are you having second thoughts?"

"What?" his blush deepened, "No, no. I...what are you doing here?"

She smiled, "I was having second thoughts."

A rush of panic and distress washed over Dahanan's face and he stepped back from her slightly.

"Adorei," he rushed, "if this is not what you want, if I am not what you want..."

Her laughter cut him off. "Everyone has second thoughts, Dahanan." His heart returned to his chest and he swallowed. "You don't?" she asked.

He looked down at her hand on his arm, "I want to be sure this is what you want."

"What about you, Daan, what do you want," she pressed.

"This is what I want, Adorei," he started.

"But?" she said.

"Arranged marriages are, well," he fished for the right words, "I want to marry you because," suddenly the well spoken inspirational knight was a shy young elf, "Do you want to marry me?"

"I already said yes," she grinned.

"But if all were equal," he asked hurriedly, "if there was no obligation and no other...conditions, Adorei, would I still be your choice?"

Her face became calm and she tilted her head to one side and smiled at him, "That is what I came here to ask myself."

The groom's mouth went dry, "And?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "Yes, I would."

He let out a relieved sigh and pressed his lips to her fingers.

"I only wish we could have had things more on our terms," she said, looking at the hall.

"This doesn't suit you?" he asked.

"Oh its lovely," she said, "what little girl doesn't dream of this?"

"Then what do you mean?"

"I would like to have been able to say I discovered you myself, that you where smitten by my charms and simply driven to marry me, despite convention," she laughed.

"Well I was smitten by your charms, if that helps," he said. "Is it so terrible that we were introduced by our parents?"

"No," she sighed, "but it isn't very romantic."

Dahanan frowned. Then a slow smile crept over his face. "Who knows you're gone?" he asked.

"No one," she said, "I asked to be left alone."

He took her hand, checked the entry where she has come in and then headed for the other exit.

"Dahanan," she said, "What are you doing?"

He turned and kissed her deeply. "Giving you your terms," he said.

* * *

The party rode behind Bachanan and Salina, all except the groom, to the small entrance on the side of the chapel. Cheerful well wishers and early guests chatted around the courtyards.

Bachanan helped his wife off the horse and arm in arm, they strolled through the gathered guests. The honor guard dismounted, tied their respective steeds, and headed in to find the groom...missing.

"Well this won't stand," Justyn said, scratching his head. "We've lost him."

"Father will be furious," Tyrin said looking in the wardrobe where the priests kept their vestments.

"How could he blame us for this?" Kalyn asked, sitting on the cushioned chase and taking advantage of the fruit laid out for the clergy.

"You know what the 'guard' in honor guard is supposed to do, don't you?" Tyrin asked him.

"Keep the groom from running at the last minute," Justyn said, looking over the little room for any indication where his brother might have gone.

"Well, I didn't loose him," Cai said, rattling the sword that hung from his belt, "I had to get the swords."

Tyrin nodded, "You're right, we couldn't have kept him in one place without those."

"What do they do for the bride?" asked Caoimhe.

"Nothing," Justyn shrugged.

"Who could run very far in those dresses?" Tyrin grinned.

Justyn had picked a piece of fabric up from the desk.

"You don't think he really ran away, do you?" Cai asked, suddenly genuinely concerned.

"I don't know," Tyrin said soberly, his hand covering the black armband he had refused to remove, "Marriage is far more frightening than battle. Marriage is forever."

"Battle can only kill you," Justyn said, unwrapping the contents of the cloth, "Marriage can steal your soul."

"Justyn, that is so mean," Caoimhe said, frowning at her brothers. "Adorei is wonderful. They love each other."

"Doesn't really matter much of they do," Kalyn said, crunching on an apple. "They don't have a choice."

"Of course they do," Caoimhe said, "Before they met, mother told Daan he didn't have to."

"How do you know that?" Kalyn asked.

Caoimhe's ears turned pink. "I...I overheard," she said quietly.

Tyrin grinned at her. "That's our little spy."

"I'm not a spy," she said defensively. "I just listen."

"I know where he's gone," Justyn said, grinning. He held the contents of the cloth for Tyrin to see.

Tyrin laughed. "I never thought that would come in handy again," he said.

Justyn tucked the cloth and its contents into his belt. "We'll have to hurry," he said. "we don't have a lot of time before the ceremony is supposed to start."

"Wait, what?" Kalyn sat up from his relaxed recline.

"Well we are the honor guard," Justyn said. "It's our job to grab him back. Ty, you all quietly head out, don't let anyone see you all leave at once. We don't want anyone to know we're gone."

"What about Mother and Father?" Cai asked.

"I'll take care of that," Justyn said. He rearranged his cloak in its most dashing position, smoothed back his blond hair and flashed a winning smile as he headed out to meet the guests.

"Alright, guards, you heard him," Ty took command.

"Where are we going?" Caoimhe asked.

"There's an orchard on the hill side of the wall," he said, "Do you know it?"

They all nodded. "We'll meet there, inside the gate," he said, is voice low and conspiratorial. "Leave one at a time, do not take the horses, or everyone will know we've left."

They all nodded to one another and one by one, slipped out of the wedding hall.

* * *

Bachanan smiled and nodded as he talked to the guests. He only caught, briefly, out of the corner of his eye, Justyn whispering to Salina, who nodded, her face frozen in a presentational smile. Justyn kissed her on the cheek and with a flourish and a nod to the guests nearest him, strode away. Salina swept gracefully to her husband, linking her arm in his and smiling up at him. She started steering him in the other direction.

"What was that about?" he asked.

"Nothing," she smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Daan is nervous, that's all," she said. "We should find the bride's family. I have not seen them yet."

Bachanan allowed his wife to sway him, and they walked casually to find their future kin.

* * *

The orchard was an old one, mostly unattended, the walls were moss covered and the gate permanently stuck half open. Dahanan climbed onto the wall and lifted Adorei up carefully.

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

He didn't say anything right away, but lifted her off the wall. He handed her a small book, a pocket prayer book.

"It's all I have," he said, "but it should do."

He smiled and strode into the orchard, leaving her by the gate.

"Dahanan," she called after him, distressed and irritated. He popped his head out from behind a tree.

"If you are going to discover me," he said, "you'd best start looking."

Her irritation turned to delight as she realized his game. She walked into the orchard after him.

* * *

The conspirators gathers outside the wall, then squeezed through, careful to mind the clean uniforms. Justyn held a hand for them to stay, then dashed into the rows of twisted nut trees, a flash of white in the green and grey landscape.

"How does he know Daan is here?" Caoimhe asked.

Ty grinned, "When we where younger, this is where we'd all sneak off to. The orchard has been abandoned, mostly, for a long time."

"Why?"

"They tree don't give much fruit any more," he shrugged.

"No, why did you sneak off to here?" she rolled her eyes.

"Sometimes you just have to get away from being a squire," he grinned at her. "we used to leave a peach pit folded in a handkerchief on one another's bed to let the others know where we'd gone."

Kalyn made a slight humph at the idea.

"Except Kay," Tyrin continued, as if he hadn't noticed. "Kay is perfect and does not need to get away from anything."

"Alright, that's enough," Kalyn said, heading into the trees. "Lets find him so we can get him back to the wedding."

Tyrin intercepted him. "No," he said holding a hand to his brother's chest, "He knows we're coming, all in good time."

Kalyn was about to make a retort when a smiling and slightly disheveled Dahanan stepped up on them from behind.

"Oh good, there you are," he grinned. "I need your help."

* * *

Adorei sat at the base of a short and twisted tree, a far away smile on her face, waiting for her knight to return.

"Pardon me, miss," Justyn bowed low in front of her.

She jumped, startled. "Justyn," her face went red and she stood quickly, brushing off her dress and straitening her hair.

"If you would, M'Lady," he said, still bowed before her, "I have been sent to escort you," he lifted his head and smiled at her, "should you be agreeable," he dropped his head back down, "to stand beside Master Dahanan Onoir, on this, his wedding day." He stood and offered her his arm.

She sighed and accepted and the two walked toward the orchard gate.

* * *

"Because I asked you?" Dahanan reasoned. he had not expected Kalyn to be so difficult. "Because I am your brother and I would do the same for you?"  
Kalyn looked truly uncomfortable at the idea of performing a marriage ceremony.

"I am not versed," he said.

"Kay, you say a blessing and pronounce us wed," Daan said. "It isn't hard, and you are the most official looking amung us."

Kalyn looked at his brother and stood a little straighter. That was true, he thought. He nodded.

"Outstanding," Dahanan said under his breath. He arranged his Brother in the archway of the gate they had managed to pry open.

Caoimhe stood with an armful of flowers and Cai and Tyrin waited behind Dahanan when Justyn escorted Adorei out of the orchard.

She blinked in surprise. Dahanan stepped up to her and, as he had before in a far more formal setting, bent on one knee.

"Adorie," he said, "I have been smitten by your charms, again. I have found these willing participants to witness. I am only myself, no name," he took off his sword and lay it in front of her, "No station. All things being equal, will you marry me?"

Adorie blushed and smiled. Justyn stepped back and she took Dahanan's hands.

"Yes," she said.

Tyrin cheered. Caoimhe jumped up and down, spilling flowers on the grass as she did so.

"May we proceed then?" Kalyn asked nervously.

Dahanan rose, reset his sword, and took Adorei's arm. Caoimhe handed her a huge cluster of flowers and they stood before Kalyn, Justyn, Tyrin and Cai standing behind them.

"I...I don't know the words," Kalyn admitted.

"Adorei," Dahanan whispered, "Do you have a favorite prayer?"

She looked a little surprised and produced the small book from the waistband of her dress. She let it open to the most read passage and handed the book to Kalyn.

"I think that will do."

* * *

The groom processed forward, in the midst of his honor guard. They looked only less sharp than they did when they rode to the chapel, their hair not as well placed as it might have been, their cheeks red, as if they had been running. The squire wore a wide grin.

There was a ripple of relief and amazement as Adorei stepped from the little room she had been given to dress in. Her dress was flawless, long and draping with a spectacular train and delicate trim. Her hair was tucked up on top of her head and held in place by an array of wildflowers. She beamed radiantly, although her attendants looked harried and pale and slightly breathless, as if they had just performed a minor miracle.

The service was splendid, long, and full of deep standing ritual, and only the priests at the altar noticed the secretive, knowing glances the bride and groom cast at one another every time the impending finality of their union was mentioned. When they finally processed out of the chapel and rode to the festive tents erected in their honor, the sun was low and the stars twinkling on the opposite horizon. The celebration lasted for hours. Bachanan was not too surprised to find Justyn with a bottle, seeing that the guests were well plied, the groom chief among them.

"Father," he said, offering to fill his glass.

"There are servants today for such things," he said, but didn't refuse.

"A knights first duty is to serve," he said cheerily, topping off Dahanan's glass.

Bachanan rolled his eyes, "I am glad to see you abandoned the arm bands."

Justyn shrugged and grinned at the bottle, "It no longer seemed necessary."

"She looked lovely," Bachanan commented to his eldest son. "The wildflowers were a nice touch."

Dahanan sipped his wine.

His father smiled at him and held his hand out for his wife as she passed by. Dahanan bowed. She grinned at him.

"Can you spare a dance for your mother?" she asked.

Dahanan looked around to see Adorei, deeply involved in a rotation dance with her cousin. He smiled. "I might actually get to see her before the celebration ends if I can make it around the circle," he said, handing Justyn his glass.

"Well, I am here to help," she said. She courtesies to her husband and the new couple joined the dance.

"I trust your prayers brought you solace?" she asked as they danced.

Dahanan's eyebrows raised in question. "Before the service?" she asked again.

"Oh," he said, "yes, they often do."

"You might wish to find a less vibrant place to make you pleas to the Light," she said, "when you are wearing white breaches."

Dahanan looked down suddenly at the grass stains on his knee. He looked back at his mother and blushed, before the circle separated and they where whisked away in the dance.


	9. Chapter 9

"Still there is a difference between a squire and a knight," Master Anston said quietly to his friend.

Bachanan leaned on his elbows, staring into the mug Anston had offered him.

"She is young," he said.

"That is my point," Anston said sitting across from Bachanan.

Bachanan's jaw set. "Then she stays within the order until she is ready."

Anston exhaled heavily, "I understand this is important to you, but..."

Bachanan raised his eyes, his gaze cutting off his friend's concern.

"I will not have my family fail in it's service," he said.

Anston's jaw nearly dropped at the suggestion.

"Bachanan," he said in disbelief, "you have five sons in arms, how is that a failure? So Caimhe will not be a knight, or at least not yet. How is waiting till she is at least as old as Cai any kind of failure?"

Bachanan took a long drink. Anston watched him carefully.

"There is something you are not saying," Anston observed.

Bachanan swirled the wine in his mug. "She needs guidance," he finally said. "She needs discipline."

Anston frowned, "She is young, those things will come with time."

Bachanan set his mug on the table, "We do not have time."

Anston stared at his friend, "I agree the situation is increasingly dire, but surely Bachanan, you raised a whole host of young men, surely you understand that you can not simply demand the youngest grow up?"

The look on Bachanan's face told Anston that indeed, that was exactly what he expected.

"Anston," he said, "I could return to the gate in less than a week. If something should," he paused, "if something should happen to me, I need to know my family is cared for. And that our dedication to the order continues."

Anston's face registered his understanding. He took a long sip of his own drink.

"Let her wait," he said simply.

"That is your official decision?" Bachanan asked, sitting back in on the bench and resting both his hands on the table.

Anston's face fell as he realized Bachanan would take nothing less. He nodded, and Bachanan rose and left.

* * *

The air between Bachanan and Caoimhe seemed particularly heavy. The elder paladin looked at his daughter from the other side of his desk. She sat strait,her hands in her lap, her eyes focused...somewhere around the insignia of the Knights of Silvermoon he wore on his chest. his wife's argument that she was too young to join her brothers in the service of the Light rang in his ears. He sighed.

"Caoimhe," he said, his voice felt heavy also. She straitened further and snapped her eyes to his. "I have spoken to the Squire Master," he could tell by the way her hands tensed in her lap that she had some idea where the conversation was going to lead. "He is not pleased with your progress." Caoimhe bit her bottom lip, but she did not respond. "He feels you would do best to...mature some...before you continue."

Caoimhe's face fell into a cross between disbelief and disappointment. Her eyes dropped into her lap.

"Caoimhe," he snapped. Her eyes shot back up. He sighed. "They have agreed to postpone your trials."

She nodded slowly. There, he thought, not so terrible.

"Until then, you will stay in Tranquillien with your mother."

A look of confusion came over his daughter's face. "I am..I am...not to return to the squires?"

Now Bachanan looked uncomfortable. His features hardened slightly, "No," he said. "I thought that was clear, the master trainer feels you are too young."

Caoimhe looked suddenly hurt, but tried to cover it up by clenching her jaw in the same way her father did. Bachanan cleared his throat. "Caoimhe," he started over slowly. "There are other paths, other skills to study," then he hastily added, "before you return to the order."

She looked up hopefully. Bachanan suddenly realized she was looking for an example. He stood and walked to the window.

"Your mother, for example, is a wonderful healer. She has been a blessing to the knights in Tranquillien," he looked over his shoulder to see how well the idea was received.

"I...I suppose..." she began.

"Untill you return to the service of the order," he said, deciding the matter.

Caoimhe looked up at him and then back at her folded hands. "I...if you say so, Father," she said, still unsure.

Bachanan was secretly relieved. "I will inform the squire master."

Caoimhe sat quietly, trying to absorb the new plan for her life. Her father looked over at her. "You may go," he said.

Caoimhe blinked in surprise.

"Ye..yes father," she said quietly, stood, bowed and left quietly.

* * *

She was sure her father intended that she go home, that she find her mother, but she could not bring herself to go back to the barracks and retrieve her personal items. She could do that in the morning, after everyone left. She walked calmly to the stables, saddled a strider and trotted out of Tranquillien. Her face was stoic and her her heart was numb. She rode east, and once she was over the rise, pushed her strider to a full run. At first, she didn't know where she was going. She just wanted to get away from everyone who might see her crying. Her strider darted through the trees, leaping over uneven ground, heedless of predators. She rode until her exhausted mount couldn't run any longer. The poor animal just stopped and Caoimhe slid out of the saddle and stood staring down the little hill. She had ridden farther than she intended, almost to the lake. The strider started to peck at the grass. She sighed, realizing she had badly mistreated the animal. She took its reigns and led it toward the water, walking ahead of it. The sun was now hanging low in the sky and long shadows fell across the water. Caoimhe took off her boots and waded into the water up to her ankles. She leaned over to pick up a rock. Her reflection wavered back at her, still in her livery. She stared at it sadly, then stripped out of the smock, folded it neatly and packed it into the saddle. Then she sat by the water until the shadows wrapped around her. She didn't stir, even as she heard muffled footsteps approaching.

"This isn't a safe place to stay, Caoimhe," a quiet voice said behind her.

Caoimhe tensed but didn't move. It had not occurred to her until that moment how close she was to Amani territory.

"I'm sorry," she said to the water, "I guess I wasn't thinking."

The Farstrider frowned, "What's wrong with you? You should be in your barrack." Adynedd's voice was clipped and irritated, which wasn't unusual for her, but it stung Caoimhe particularly in her current state of mind. She pulled her knees up under her chin.

"I'll...I'll go back tomorrow," she said quietly.

Adynedd blinked, "Won't they miss you? Don't they keep a count of you?"

Caoimhe shook her head, "I have...I have been dismissed. They...they won't be looking for me tonight."

Adynedd was speechless. With a frown still on her face she took a seat next to Caoimhe by the water. She didn't say anything, or try to comfort her at all, but Caoimhe was in some way glad of the company.

The crickets chirped and the fireflies roamed the banks before the Farstrider finally said, "I am expected back." She looked down at Caoimhe, sitting stone still with her chin on her knees, "I cannot in good conscience leave you here by yourself."

Caoimhe sighed and nodded. Without looking at Adynned, she took her mount's reigns and started to walk back up the hill the way she had come.


	10. Chapter 10

Tyrin looked at the fresh pile of hay that stood well over his head and sighed. A week of stable chores seemed a rather disproportionate penalty for what seemed like harmless fun. Apparently one person's fun is another's trespassing. Tyrin stabbed the bails with the pitch fork and started to spread the loads around.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry," came a voice from the stable gate.

Tyrin didn't bother to look up. "I told you already, you don't have to apologize."

Justyn let his charger to its stall and started to unbuckle the saddle. "Still," he said.

Tyrin smiled, "I made the mistake of opening my mouth."

"I tried."

"I know," his brother laughed. "Nice how they seemed to think you were covering."

Justyn hefted the saddle into its stand and started to brush down his steed. "I know!" he laughed. His eyes went wide and doey, "Me? Covering?" He laughed again and went back to the brush. "We could make quick work of this, if you'd like the help."

Tyrin shook his head. "Tempting, but I have a feeling this was to be a singular punishment. It would probably go poorly for both of us if it didn't take me many hours."

He smiled, "Besides, Cadwgan's sister is taking pity on me and bringing me bread and wine." He winked at Justyn and smiled.

"You dog!" Justyn flicked water at him from the bucket he carried, "This isn't punishment for you at all!"

Tyrin laughed out loud and shrugged, "What can I say, she favors the oppressed."

"Damn it," Justyn said, "I should have got to the masters sooner."

A clattering of activity outside drew their attention. They turned to see what was happening. A rider, composed but pale dismounted and ran past the stables and toward the main entrance of Falcon Wing square. The brothers looked at each other and frowned, leaving cleaning implements behind as they followed the runner. Within seconds, warning bells were clanging all over Silvermoon, loud and urgent. The city was under attack.

* * *

Salina, in controlled panic, rode the charger at full gallop to the little house south east of Silvermoon. Adorai heard the horse and came out of the house to see what was going on. They were supposed to have gone north, directly to Silvermoon, but Suncrown had to be warned. If what the scouts were saying was true, half true, no one would be safe.

"Salina," her daughter in law said, shocked at the state the normally collected woman was in.

"What..."

"Where are the children?" she asked.

"In the house...what is..."

"Get them, your fastest striders...where is Daan?"

"Silvermoon, of course," the young wife and mother felt her own composure waiver as Salina let a small sob escape her lips, "Salina what is going on?"

"We are under attack. The...the dead have risen and crushed the Gates." Adorai's eyes widened in disbelief. "They are marching on Silvermoon."

They stared at each other for a brief moment. Adorai ran into the house and everyone was ushered outside.

"Mother?" Caoimhe came out bewildered by her sister's panic. "What's wrong."

A small relief washed over Salina, suddenly grateful her youngest had been sent away from the Order as unprepared for knighthood. A pang of pain followed as she feared for the other five. Calmly, as best she could, she said, "We are under attack, Caoimhe. We must warn the rest of the village."

Caoimhe caught her breath and nodded. She ran to the little house and soon emerged from the back with two striders, one saddled and ready. she also had a bow, a full quiver and two of her brothers old swords strapped to her waist.

Salina gasped. She had never seen her youngest armed. It rattled her almost as much as their current situation.

Adorai came out as well, a toddler crying in her arms. Salina trotted the charger to her grandson. She bent down and kissed him on the head. Adorai handed him up to her, mounted the strider Caoimhe had readied and then they charged off toward Suncrown.

* * *

There was no where to go on the east side of Silvermoon to escape the horrors of the crushing invaders. There was no east gate. Cai thought frantically and tried to remain calm. There was a small, hidden exit within the halls of the paladin's own sanctum, and there was a slightly larger, but barred, ceremonial gate in Sunstrider square. Opening that gate would get more people out more quickly, but if the dead knew it was open, they would surely flood through it like water through a cracked levy. The very young knight looked at the group he had been charged to protect. There where about a dozen males, fighting age, armed with hunting bows and short swords, another dozen or so females, similarly armed, many not dressed well for battle or flight. They had another group of children, varying in age, the younger carried by the older. He made up his mind, they would escape through the sanctuary, into the hills and hope that Duskwither spire was not overrun. It was a large group to try an defend, let alone move stealthily through an enemy that was everywhere.

The Paladins had fallen back, and back, and back, and were finally charged with saving as many as possible in the face of overwhelming odds. They knew they had made the right choice when the fighting, and screaming, and scrambling fell into Farstrider square from the the open plaza in front of Sunstider palace. The few paladins that remained rushed the civilians toward what they thought would be safety. If all the soldiers fell, would the dead leave the citizens alone? Cai didn't think so.

Once inside, they swung close the massive doors and barred them. The gates of Silvermoon had not held the undead army back, the doors of the Order where not likely to stand for long. Cai lent his voice to the prayer on the doors, any kind of protection, that would give them more time. Their group numbered about 50 now, and now included the wounded as well as the young. He did his best to heal those in the worst condition, although it had never been his strong suit. Cai felt a wave of warmth wash over him as he did so, but it seemed so feeble in the face of what was out there. How could the Light fall so short? He shook the doubt from his mind and concentrated on his task. Save as many as possible.

They rushed past the dais and the sanctuary, through a war room, empty now. They grabbed whatever arms remained, exited and barred the door from the armory, and twisted down a long spiral to a door, not too wide, and not tall enough for a charger, that was used for speedy and less overt comings and goings of the Order. Cai said a prayer not for protection, but that there be nothing on the other side of the hidden entrance. He put his ear to the door, fully realizing that the door was several inches thick. He heard nothing, but he felt the shuttering if the walls. He had considered that the stair well might be a good hiding place, at least a defensible one, but if the walls where crushed, they would be crushed with it. He drew a weapon, held his breath, and slowly opened the door.

* * *

It seemed like a good idea at the time, or at least, the most survivable. Kalyn and the other knights who had retreated to defend Sunstrider square had taken up on the arching bridge that let to the palace. The priests stood beside them, and as many archers as remained. The once beautiful square was littered with bodies and slick with blood, the fountains had stopped flowing and were filled with red and black. Sweat covered the faces of those he fought with. He would have taken to the gate to Quel'danas, with the greater force of the defenders, but they had been cut off, separated and left to defend what was obviously a lost cause. Their battle was one of principal.

"It does us no good to die here!" one of the priests yelled over the cacophony of battle. "They will just," he swallowed hard, "They will just raise our bodies against the rest."

A mage next to him, as if in response to the priest, let a blaze of fire escape from his hands, choking on anger and grief as he ignited not the enemies, but the bodies nearby, denying the dead any unwilling recruits. His next fire bolt caught a necromancy across the square solidly in the chest, lighting his robes and halting his spell.

"There is a portal," the mage said.

"Where does it go?" another asked.

The mage hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the flaming necromancers refusal to stay down. Sickened, he realized the thing was dead and rising to stumble toward them, a human torch. He released streams of blueish blazes at it until it fell apart in chunks and stopped moving, but four more corpses shambled up to take its place.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

Collectively and wordlessly, they agreed it did not. They started to fall back into the palace, hounded by the press of the dead.

The portal chamber was just inside the high arched palace doors.

"That doesn't seem particularly prudent," Kalyn muttered, seeing how hopelessly open their position would be.

The mage shot him a grim look.

"What about the others?" a priest asked.

"Others?" several of them piped.

"They were seeking shelter in the palace," she said weakly. "It seemed like the safest place. At the time."

They all turned to the paladins.

There where three of them. They looked at each other. Kalyn sighed heavily. Again, silently, they all agreed.

"Where are they?" one knight asked.

"And how many?"

"We wont be able to bring them back here," Kalyn reasoned. they all stared at him. He glowered back, "Be serious," he all but yelled, "We have minutes, if that," he looked at the mages, "Get as many out as you can and close the portals behind you as soon as the room is breached."

He looked at his fellow knights, they nodded their agreement.

"What about the others?" the priestess asked again.

Kalyn declined to answer, looked with a painful pang at the opening portal, and left with his companions to perform what he assumed to be his final, futile, duty.

* * *

Dahanan thought himself to be a solid soldier, but he could not stare at the smoke rising from Quel'Danas unaffected. They had been pushed back. They had fallen. They had failed. And he stood on the small boat drifting away from the northern shore wishing he had fallen too. He looked at the small bunch of ragged survivors, huddled, traumatized, shaken. They had come across the once glorious bridge and laid waste to everything he held dear. He was injured, no one on the little shift was whole. His shield arm hung useless, the bones broken. His helm had served to protect his head from a blow that would surely have split it in two, had the helm itself not been blessed, but even the blessings faltered under the evil magic that moved the dead. Dahanan had forced his vision to clear and called down the light upon his enemies, unseen blows falling on them like hammers from above, but there were just so many. And then he felt the sickening wave of despair and dread as the Sunwell collapsed, corrupted by something hideous. He could feel it, though he couldn't see it, and he knew everyone on the island felt it as well. Blood was matted in his hair, covered his armor, filled his vision. But he was alive, and, save for the blessing of the Light, he had no idea how. And he felt guilty for wishing he was not.

"Forgive me," he muttered to no one in particular. A whimpering in the boat forced him to come back to himself. he forced self pity from his head and forced a reassuring look onto his face as he turned to tend the wounded.

"My Lord," one nearly unconscious victim asked, "Where will we go?"

Dahanan stared out at the black horizon and did not answer. He had no idea.

* * *

The villagers in Suncrown were slow to accept the news at first. They conferred, they argued, but in the end they accepted as a second rider came with the same urgent warning. Suddenly, the arguing became an expensive luxury. They started a mass ride, anyone who could provide a mount did so and the over laden animals carried as many as possible to the north. Many went west, intent on adding their arms to the effort against the invaders, even though the outrider who had followed Salina begged them not to, insisting that it was in vain. That their only, best hope was to reach the protection of Silvermoon. Some listened, some did not. They reached the river, crossed the little land bridge, anyone with a bow covered the crossing of the others. Adorai clutched her son, Salina carried two youngsters on her borrowed horse. Caoimhe had lent her strider for the same purpose and slid quietly along the bank, her bow trained, if not a trifle twitchy, on every suspect shadow. She stayed close to Salina and Adorai as they crossed.

As they moved north, a horrible smell started to spread through the air, and an erratic glow could be seen in the distance. Disbelief spread through the group. Scouts where sent ahead, the rest forming a protective circle, silently waiting for any word, or any attack.

There was movement. the collected evacuees spread as quietly as they could for cover , the strong staying in front of the defenseless. There was a shrill whistle, like an angry bird.

Caoimhe started. She recognized it as one of the ranger's calls. A few others did as well. She started toward the sound.

"Caoimhe, no!" her mother whispered hoarsely. But she was already gone, sprinting ahead on nearly silent steps.

She saw an elf, three elves, moving through the trees. They had bows strung. She could hear others behind them, moving slowly and quietly, but not quietly like the Farstriders, quietly like the weary.

Slowly, she stood, trying to imitate the call she had heard.

They stopped, leveled their weapons, then lowered them in recognition. She closed the distance.

Cai recognized her too and ran to be sure he was not seeing things out of desperation. She threw her arms around his neck, heedless of his armor. He pressed his cheek to her head and thanked the Light that at least one prayer was answered today. He knew they couldn't celebrate, though. They were not out of danger. He looked into the woods from where she had come.

"Are you...are you alone?" he choked.

She shook her head. again, Cai felt some measure of relief.

"We came from Suncrown," she started. He stopped her, waved the rest of his own group forward.

"Show me," he said, taking her hand. A few others had come forward.

"We were told to go to Silvermoon," the out runner came forward, clearly confused.

One of the other young knights with Cai shook his head. "It is too late," he said.

Caoimhe grabbed Cai's hand with both her own, and he squeezed it hard in return, but otherwise said nothing.

"We can't stay here," one of them reasoned.

"What about the Farstider's camp?" Caoimhe asked. Cai grimaced, it was a long way to travel, if it was still there. He had heard, but he did not want to tell his sister, that the Rangers had been overcome. But east and south was at least away from the attack.

"We have to find some where to regroup," he said.

"Let us pull the survivors together," his companion said. "Then we will decide where to go."

They nodded in agreement and moved farther into the hills.

* * *

It happened so quickly. He was there, and then he was just...gone. Washed under by an unstoppable tide of corpses and dead flesh.

Justyn sat numb and shaken on the floor of what had been the gate house of a bridge that separated Eversong woods from Sunstrider isle. It had been so...sudden. The attack so complete. They had been together when the alarms where raised. They had been ordered to the gates of Silvermoon and when it was evident, shocking and horrifyingly apparent that the unnatural...sea...of undead would not be held back at the gate, they had been ordered, with many of the younger knights, to evacuate the innocents. It was clear that the enemy did not care who they killed. Anyone with a sword or a bow stood as long as they could. The knights, all of the young Quel'dorei, begged to defend their city. The Paladin had ordered them, yelled at them, it was their duty to protect, and that meant pulling back, whichever gate was closest. Glory was not dying in battle if they could save someone, anyone, by pulling back. It was then they realized how desperate it was. And the sickening collapse of the stone walls and the screaming of those who had covered their retreat followed them. Justyn could not shake that sound. They had turned at the bridge to defend the evacuees. Anyone who could not fight fled to the Academy in hopes that a portal to...to anywhere, could be made to get away. So the paladins and their makeshift army stood prepared to block the bridge as a wave, a wall, of dead flesh clamored up the beach. The smell was unbearable. The sight was worse, made all the more nightmarish by the animated corpses of their own fallen who where being pushed forward of the undead by the necromancers that led their charges.  
They moved as one hideous mass and they surged onto the bridge. And at one moment Justyn and Tyrin where fighting with the light beaming righteously upon them and then, the bridge collapsed and the dead swept over them and he was gone.

Justyn remembered the fall, and the smell, and the taste of the tainted water in his mouth. He remembered dead hands trying to pull him under, kicking and stabbing as he held his breath. He remembered dragging himself onto the shore and watching, helpless, as the dead continued to march, passing the little island now that the bridge was cut because...because it was not important. They realized with a dropping of their stomachs, they where marching for Quell'Danas. Several of them waded out into the water, determined to rejoin the fight, Justyn among them, only to be pulled back out of the now fetid crossing, cluttered with bodies of fallen elves and decomposing parts of long dead humans, by more clear thinking paladins. Justyn looked at the few hundred, if that, clustered up the shore and with a mournful last look back, followed his fellows to care for the survivors.

Now he sat, hours had passed since the dead had marched by, leaving the little island forgotten. The portals had failed them, the experienced mages had fallen defending the city proper, and died there. The survivors, mostly children and young adults, a few artisans and elderly, where centered at the lower levels of the Academy courtyard. No fires had been lit, no one spoke for fear of giving away their tenuous position. The paladins who remained had taken positions around the shore, to warn the others and defend as long as they could. After what they witnessed, they did not expect to survive. But hours had gone by, and the army that had marched north had not returned. Neither had any sign, any word, of what was happening elsewhere. The opposite shore was silent, silent and dead. No birds, no life, no animals, nothing.

No survivors.

Justyn stared blankly at the bodies that floated past. He was supposed to wait, stay, watch, guard. He wondered what they were waiting for. Without thinking, without any real direction in his mind, he walked to the water's edge and waded in up to his knees. He reached into the water and pulled out the first body. He drug it ashore, laid the mangled corpse in the best repose he could, said a prayer, and went back to the water. He found a second, and pulled it ashore. This was not a soldier, the thought ran slowly through the back of his mind. He said a prayer and went back to the water. Body after body, some incomplete, if it was Quel'dorei, he pulled it to the shore.

"Justyn," there came a voice from atop the broken bridge. Justyn did not stop. He mumbled a prayer. His legs were numb and he was soaking with water and gore.

"Justyn," his friend and fellow knight walked softly down to the beach, "This...you need to come back to the camp."

He lay one limp and broken arm of a girl across her collapsed chest, her other was missing. He closed her eyes which, thankfully, had rolled into her head and were not staring at him as so many had. He shook his head.

"They can't be left like this," he said in a whisper, continuing his prayer.

"There is a possibility they will come back, and if they do you will have laid their ranks out for them," his friend reasoned.

Justyn shook his head, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"No," he said, refusing the possibility, "No, I prayed over them."

His friend sighed, completely understanding.

"The living need you," he implored.

Justyn stared at the hundreds of bodies stretching out in the water, bumping listlessly with the tide onto the shore. He shook his head, unable to say what he really wanted to. He could not leave Tyrin behind.

"Justyn, the dead, they will forgive us for taking care of the living," he put his hands on Justyn's shoulders and squeezed them hard.

Justyn looked up at his friends face, tears freely flowing. This other knight, his father lost, his family gone, they were all together in this misery. Justyn sobbed heavily into his sleeve. He took a deep breath as best he could, nodded at his friend and said, "I...I am...you are right." He nodded again, to reassure himself he could leave. Looked back at the water.

"For what it's worth," he said "I am so sorry."


End file.
